


Just Another High School AU

by beersforqueers



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Jet Being Jet, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Sokka is Funny, Zuko Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:19:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4311987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beersforqueers/pseuds/beersforqueers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko gets expelled from his "rich kid school" and ends up transferring to the same high school as The Gaang and Jet… all the while dealing with the aftermath of getting kicked out of his house, finding equilibrium in his new home with Iroh, and trying to navigate his relationship with a certain angry ex.</p><p>Plus a little Toph/Suki, cause I feel like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Inside the Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's nothing groundbreaking, but hey! I aspire to write the fics I'd want to read.¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“But if we could go into a wormhole—“

“Sokka, there isn’t a wormhole!”

“I’m just saying theoretically! Like, theoretically if there _were_ a wormhole—“

Zuko was distracted by the extreme levels of noise coming from the corner table. Looking up from preparing a matcha bubble tea, he glared at the pack of teenagers by the window.

“I think there could be a wormhole,” offered the smallest one, a skinny kid with over large eyes and… did he have a tattoo on his _head_?

“Thank you, Aang!” the loudest one turned to the little one—Aang—with an aggrieved expression. His eyes, Zuko noticed, were very blue. Probably the deepest shade of blue he had ever seen naturally present on a human being.

“Don’t encourage him,” the older girl snapped. She tossed back long, dark brown hair, and Zuko saw that her eyes were very nearly the same color as the boy’s. _As Sokka’s_  he thought.

“Calm down, Sugarqueen,” the younger girl said, slapping her companionably on the back. Zuko saw her flinch. “Sokka’ll burn out. Always does.”

“But not before he drives me crazy,” the girl (she had to be his sister) muttered.

“Forget about the wormholes, Katara,” Aang said, his tone pleading. Big eyes widened at the girl, who huffed and turned away. “I think what we should really talk about is Sokka’s haircut.”

“You like?” Sokka preened, running a hand across one of his shaved sides. “I really considered the lightning bolts, but I thought in the end—“

“I can’t even see this shit,” Toph interrupted. “Who wants more tea?” She retracted her feet from where they had been resting on the edge of the table. They landed on the floor with a much more solid _thud_ than Zuko would have expected from such a tiny person.

Her group shook their heads, and then she was heading towards him.

Zuko whipped around, trying to look busy. He’d finished the bubble tea, and no one had ordered anything else since.

“Hey Princess,” she barked. “Yeah, over here.”

He felt himself snap upright, irritation making him bold. His eyes narrowed as he faced her.

“What?”

“I need another Dragonwell tea,” she leaned over the counter, and he noticed for the first time that her eyes were slightly milky, their gaze unfocused. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m sort of blind over here, so could you deliver? Oh, and wipe that stupid look off your face. I can feel it from here.” She turned and stalked back to the table, joining in with the conversation easily.

Zuko prepared the tea, trying to repress his anger at her. Still, if she called him ‘Princess’ one more time… He had only started picking up this shift right after school because his uncle wanted him home earlier on school nights. He had to stay late to close tonight, but after that… he hoped that these kids weren’t regulars.

“Zuuuko…” the obnoxious one read his name tag aloud to the table as Zuko set the tea down. “How long have you worked here?”

Although Zuko objectively recognized the tone as friendly, conversational even, he was immediately defensive.

“Since it opened. How long have you been coming here?”

Sokka didn’t seem to take offense, “Since it opened. Haven’t seen you before.”

“I usually work the night shift,” Zuko said aggressively.

“Ah,” Sokka swiped the tea from in front of Toph, clearly trying to sip it nonchalantly. Instead, “HOT, HOT, HOT!!! OW.” He fanned vigorously at his steaming mouth. “Ith ithn’t funny, Aang. Thtop lauthing at me,” he sputtered.

“Hey, don’t you go to school with us?” the older girl’s eyes were sharp. “You’re a senior.”

“My year!” Sokka had recovered enough to beam up at Zuko. “Why don’t I know you?”

“I’m new,” Zuko spat, trying not to prolong the conversation. He wanted so badly to get away from them that it was almost painful. “I have to go,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the back of the shop.

“Oh, ok,” Sokka said, his voice understanding, if a little disappointed. “See you at school!”

“Yeah, sure,” Zuko mumbled. He bolted for the door to the back room, feeling like he couldn’t breathe. Why was simple human interaction so hard?

He stood for a moment in the quiet before it hit him. The entire time he’d been talking to them, he’d been waiting for them to ask about his scar. His fingers drifted upward, trembling to a stop just before they grazed the bottom edge of it. Had they looked at it? Had they been staring? Or had they been politely looking away, not wanting to make him or themselves uncomfortable? That was almost the worst.

He usually noticed… he just about always saw how people reacted. But damn it, something about Sokka’s effortless charm had distracted him, thrown him off. _That and those stupid blue eyes_ his brain supplied unhelpfully. 

 

***

 

“Uncle! I’m home!” Zuko let the door slam behind him as he entered. The apartment he shared with his uncle above the shop wasn’t very large, but it was plenty of room for two. Dropping his keys onto the table in the entryway, he stripped off his jacket as he walked into the kitchen. His sneakers squeaked a little on the ceramic tile, and the sound seemed loud in the silent apartment.

“Uncle?” Zuko let out a relieved sigh when he saw Iroh sitting solemnly at the scrubbed kitchen table. “Shall I put the kettle on?” When Iroh nodded, Zuko filled the battered teapot with water and set it on the stove. Iroh insisted that it was kept due to its “sentimental value”. Zuko thought that was a more polite term for “old as shit”.

As the flame leapt from the burner, Zuko felt a small flutter in his chest. Fire hadn’t always been his friend. Turning back to his uncle, it became clear that he hadn’t missed Zuko recoiling from the flame, but he said nothing, continuing to survey Zuko from under tufty silver brows.

Zuko retrieved two cups from the cupboard and moved to sit down next to Iroh. “How was the shop during the day?” he asked quietly. “It was a bit slow this afternoon.” _But still plenty loud_  he thought wryly, remembering the rowdy group of teenagers from before.

“Zuko,” Iroh said, “have you made any friends at school?”

Zuko wasn’t surprised by the question, but it still took him a moment to marshal his response, “I’m not sure I would say that.”

“Ah,” Iroh heaved himself to his feet. The kettle was beginning to whistle, and he bustled around the kitchen, sure hands preparing tea the way they had for decades. “And why do you think that is?”

“I don’t need them,” Zuko said automatically. The words sounded just as unconvincing to his own ears as they must to his uncle’s. He tried again, “I’ve never had many friends. Why does it matter here?”

“You are trying to start a new life,” Iroh explained. “A fresh start would be made all the sweeter by good companionship.”

“Maybe,” Zuko accepted the mug of tea his uncle handed him. His mind flashed unwillingly back to the teenagers (his mind quickly supplied their names: Toph, Sokka, Katara, Aang). They had seemed so happy, so at ease. So normal. “It isn’t exactly easy when all anyone cares about is how I got—you know…” he gestured vaguely at his cheek. He still couldn’t bring himself to just say the words. _My scar_. It shouldn’t be as hard as it was.

“There are many for whom external appearances are as shallow as they are in truth, nephew,” Iroh said sagely. “In the mean time, should I set up another appointment with Dr. Jee? He seemed to have been a great help to you in the past.”

“Jee is all right,” Zuko admitted. “Fine. If you still think I need a shrink.”

“What your father did to you was inexcusable, Zuko,” Iroh leaned forward, placing his large, square hand over Zuko’s on the table. “That you are still such a good hearted boy speaks more favorably of your character than it does of his parenting. I know you struggle to control your anger, but it is possible that you must first begin to forgive yourself. You have done nothing wrong. Enjoying friendship,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “or even romance, does not make you weak or less deserving of love.”

Zuko glared down into his tea, hating that he could feel the corners of his eyes prickling. He jerked his head in something that he hoped approximated a nod. It must have convinced his uncle, because his hand contracted briefly before disappearing from Zuko’s. There was a great sigh, the sound of Iroh’s chair scraping back, and then the susurrations of his uncle’s robe as he stood.

“I am off to bed, nephew. May you have pleasant dreams,” Zuko didn’t have to be looking at Iroh to recognize the sad smile on his face or the kindness in his eyes as he looked down at him, sitting slumped over the kitchen table.

“G’night,” Zuko muttered. He knew that if he looked up, it would only become worse.

“Good night, Zuko.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love kudos and comments!!! Thanks guys :-)


	2. The New Kid

“Ok, so the new kid. I mean, he’s not that new, ok, maybe he isn’t technically new at all,” Sokka plopped his tray down across from Toph in the cafeteria. “But he’s new to me! Sort of. I only just noticed he exists…” Sokka trailed off dreamily, then perked back up again, “what’s his deal?”

Busily arranging his belongings under the chair, Sokka finally glanced up. The whole group looked nonplussed. “What?!” he demanded. “Can’t I have a few questions? Is curiosity not allowed now? He’s mysterious! What with all the, ya know,” he gestured wildly at his face,” and the,” he narrowed his eyes and surveyed them all haughtily. “He’s INTERESTING.”

“Um…” Katara looked sideways at Aang. “You wanna take this one? I don’t think I can handle this much industrial strength Sokka crazy today. I just had an Algebra 2 exam.”

“I just finished AP World History!” Aang complained. “Why can’t Toph talk to him about his new obsession?!”

“Obsession?” Sokka squawked indignantly. “I am not obsessed!” He lowered his voice, trying to pretend he hadn’t noticed people from several tables around looking strangely at him. “I’m just cuuurious…” he whined.

“He got expelled from his last school,” Toph said, taking one for the team. “That’s about all I know. I heard something about a scar, too, but since I can’t _see_  the guy, you’re on your own.”

“Yeah, it’s on his face,” Aang said, unable to resist the gossip. “It’s huge! Right across his eye.”

“Aw!” Toph said, “I was hoping for something a bit juicier. You know, a rumored scar, like, on his right ass cheek or something. Out there in the open on his face isn’t exciting. He probably fell or some shit,” she went back to picking her teeth. She always inhaled her food so fast it was a wonder the tray didn’t get sucked in too.

Katara, meanwhile, was studiously separating out the types of vegetables in her soggy steamed veggie mix. “It looks like a burn to me,” she said, concentrating on removing the last pea from amid her carrots. “I don’t think you can just fall and have your face right next to the hot thing for long enough to leave a burn like that. Someone must have held him down.”

That sobered everyone up. At least until Sokka, who had taken the few moments of audience participation to gulp down his own lunch at record speed, leapt back to his feet. “Enough of the morbid shit, I’m gonna go see if I can scrounge up some real dirt. See ya later!” And he was off, swinging his bag onto his shoulder as he ran into the crowd of students.

“How long do you think this will last?” Katara asked worriedly. She took the first bite of her carrots and grimaced.

“Probably about as long as the kid from Nebraska did,” Aang piped in cheerfully.

“So a week or two?” Katara asked, her face hopeful.

“Naw, I have a feeling,” Toph interjected. “We’re in trouble with this one. Hey Twinkletoes, did the Sugarqueen separate all her veggies again? The fuck is with that, anyway?”

“I’ve already told you: I don’t like pees, Toph! GAWD!!!”

 ***

“Suki!” Sokka threw himself into the chair next to Suki. Her cheerleader friends tittered, and he shot them his most winning smile. Suki rolled her eyes. Even if their breakup had been amicable, she was still his ex-girlfriend. She had made it clear that her friends were off limits.

“Sokka,” she said cautiously.

“What have you heard about Zuko?” he asked, leaning in close.

She twirled her pony tail thoughtfully, “The scarred guy, right?” Her friends erupted into giggles. She waved apologetically in their direction. “They think he’s hot,” she explained. “Mysterious or whatever. To be honest, I haven’t heard that much. He keeps to himself,” she rolled her eyes back, thinking. “Ok, here’s something. I heard that his dad is the dean of that fancy private school across town. Except that he doesn’t live with him; he lives with his uncle. The guy who owns that teashop downtown.”

She sat back, clearly satisfied with her information.

Sokka stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment before popping up again.

“Okthanksbye!” he waved over his shoulder as he turned the corner out of the cafeteria.

“He’s just so cute,” one of Suki’s friends sighed. The rest nodded in agreement.

Suki’s own eyes slid, almost unconsciously, over to the table where Sokka usually sat. His friends were all there, Aang, Katara… there was a raucous peal of laughter, a small black head tipped back with mirth. Toph. Her heels drummed against the cracked linoleum of the cafeteria floor, and Suki felt a small smile lift the edge of her lips. Then she processed her friend’s words.

“Shut up, Lixing,” Suki said mildly, “you don’t want him anyway. He’s not as good with his boomerang as he thinks he is.”

 ***

Haru was dribbling a soccer ball out by the practice fields when Sokka found him. He turned and passed to Sokka when he saw him coming. Sokka met the ball easily, passing it back to Longshot, who kicked it toward the net. Smellerbee, who was playing goalie, crowed triumphantly as she caught it in midair.

“Hey!” Haru clapped Sokka on the back once he’d reached them. “What’s up? Should you be heading to class?”

“Naw, I have time. Listen, have you heard anything about Zuko? The transfer kid?”

“Zuko…” Haru rubbed his chin, where a few weeks worth of scraggly stubble was starting to come in. “The rich kid with the scar? No, not really.”

“Oh, him?” Smellerbee jogged up, the ball held tight under one arm. She was glaring. “He’s an asshole.”

“What makes you say that?” Sokka asked, deflated.

“He’s all ‘my father this’ and ‘my father that’. Only a piece of shit rich kid like him complains about how good they got it. No consideration for the little guy,” she spat on the ground for emphasis. Longshot, coming to stand behind her right shoulder, nodded gravely.

“Oh. Never mind then,” Sokka said sadly.

“Were you gonna make friends with him?” Smellerbee accused.

“No! I swear!” Sokka held up his hands defensively. Far away at the school, the bell began to ring. “Would you listen to that? I gotta go.” He turned and began to trot back to the building. “See you at practice!” he yelled back over his shoulder.

He was still looking back at his friends, and so he didn’t notice Jet slumped against the side of the bleachers.

“Why are you asking questions about Zuko?” he asked quietly, taking a pull on the cigarette dangling from his lips.

Sokka jumped, then eyed Jet warily.

“Why do you care?” Sokka asked, keeping his distance from the other.

“Stay away from him,” Jet hissed, stepping closer to Sokka. His dark eyes sparkled dangerously.

“Wait a minute,” Sokka’s eyes widened. “You used to go to that fancy school, didn’t you? What’s it called—“ he snapped his fingers, trying to recall “—Agni Academy! Right?”

He faltered as his eyes met Jet’s. They were full of cold anger, and all he could do was bolt. Even so he felt the edge of Jet’s cigarette burn him as he went.

 ***

“How did it happen?” Katara asked.

“Jet,” Sokka said bitterly.

“What did you do?” Katara dabbed some clear gel onto the burn, then ripped open a small gauze patch.

“I didn’t do anything!” Sokka protested. “Why does everyone always think it’s _my_  fault! Aang's always the one who started it!” He glared over at the younger boy, who blushed.

“Sorry!” he said. “I’m just naturally inquisitive!”

“Whatever,” Toph said, stretched out in the grass next to them, “Jet’s a maniac.”

“He, like, flicked his cigarette at me or something,” Sokka said indignantly. “It got impressive range, though.”

“Sokka,” Katara taped down the gauze, “why did he do it?”

“How the hell should I know why Jet does anything?” Sokka said.

“Jet’s a psycho,” Toph said helpfully.

“He doesn’t go around burning people for no reason,” Katara said. “You made him mad.”

“Yeah, but everything makes Jet mad,” Toph pointed out.

“This is true,” Aang nodded.

“You’re avoiding my question!” Katara snapped angrily.

“Fine,” Sokka sighed. “I was just asking Haru about Zuko, and he stopped me when I heading back, and I remembered he went to that fancy school, and—“

“Of course he got mad!” Katara’s face flushed. “He and I, I mean… well, he got kicked out of his house, and he had to leave Agni Academy. Who wants to be reminded of that?”

They all fell silent for a moment while Katara glared at Sokka.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “How was I supposed to know?”

“You weren’t, but have some sensitivity!” Katara rammed her first aid kit back into her backpack.

Sokka looked over at Aang for help, but the younger boy was staring at Katara sadly. Sokka sighed. It wasn’t really a secret that Aang was enamored of his sister, but it didn’t help with the group dynamic. Especially when Katara was mooning over Jet. _Why do women always like the bad boy?_  

“I sure don’t,” Toph said.

Sokka hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, but from the mortified expression on Katara and Aang’s faces, he clearly had.

“Nope,” Toph continued, oblivious to the others’ discomfort, “I’m thinking about gettin me some Suki. You don’t care, right, Snoozles?”

That was enough to shake everyone out of their embarrassment. Katara let loose an unladylike snort of laughter, and Aang joined her. Sokka felt nothing but shock.

“Wha—what?” he asked, sure he had misheard.

“She’s into me, man,” Toph assured him. “I can feel it.”

“What exactly did you feel?” Katara choked out, mopping her eyes. Sokka shot her the dirtiest look in his arsenal. She ignored it.

“Oh, you know. Heart beat. Temperature. Pheromone releeaase,” she drew out the last word with relish. “I thought about playing hard to get, but who am I kidding?” she laughed. “I’ve heard she’s hot.”

“She is,” Sokka muttered.

“She’s also really funny!” Aang chimed in. “Remember that time she filled all those condoms with helium and released them in your bedroom and they didn’t come down for a week and Gran Gran—“

“Yes, Aang,” Sokka said from between gritted teeth. “I remember that.”

Toph let out a whoop of laughter, “See, I like this girl!”

Sokka threw up his hands in defeat, “The world has gone crazy.”


	3. Tea Time

“Hi!”

Zuko looked up from the cash register, and his heart did a strange sort of flip-flop in his chest. He slowly set the calculator in his hand back down.

“Hi,” he said slowly.

Sokka was bobbing eagerly in front of him, his blue eyes positively shining with energy. Zuko was almost impressed; glancing up at the clock over the door, he saw that it was nearly 11 o’clock at night. The shop was completely vacant except for himself and Sokka.

"You're alone," Zuko was so surprised that it just slipped out. He had noticed Sokka at school that day— _Not on purpose!_  he told himself—and it seemed like he was always surrounded by people. Either his little group of friends, or one of the cheerleaders, or other members of whatever sports team he played on…

"Uh, yeah," Sokka turned around, scanning the empty shop. "Were you expecting someone?" He turned back around, grinning. "It's just that your jasmine bubble tea haunts my dreams. So when I saw you were still open..." He looked sheepish. "Sorry. Should I go?"

"No," Zuko said tersely. He stepped out from behind the counter, stripping off his apron as he went. He crossed to the front door, bolted it shut, and flipped the sign to 'Closed'. He also resisted the temptation to press his suddenly warm forehead against the cool glass, to take a few calming, steadying breaths against it.

"So," he wheeled around, trying his best to project a composure he did not feel. "Jasmine bubble tea?" He headed back around the counter.

"Yeah! Listen, thanks so much for doing this," Sokka prattled, leaning across the counter on his elbows to talk at Zuko while he worked. "I really appreciate it. I wasn't gonna be able to sleep tonight. Imagining the tea," he went misty-eyed for a moment, as though imagining all of the un-brewed tea sitting, sad and lonely, on the shop's shelves at night.

"Uh huh..." Zuko had no fucking idea how to make small talk with this kid. At least Sokka didn't seem to need much to get him going. "Do you want to come back here?" he finally asked out of desperation. He wasn't sure what made him do it; surely letting Sokka into his personal space wasn't a good idea. He was clearly a little unhinged.

"Cool!" Instead of going _around_  like any normal person, Sokka vaulted the counter, landing easily on the balls of his feet. "Jui jitsu," he explained to a slightly stunned Zuko.

"I see," Zuko said quietly, privately thinking that Sokka wouldn't be so confident if he was sparring with Zuko. He had been studying hand-to-hand combat with Master Piandao since he was a child. "Why were you out so late?" he opened the cupboard above his head, reaching up to get the correct tea, but Sokka beat him to it. He tossed the box at him, and Zuko caught it deftly.

"I had a late practice," he hesitated for a moment, clearly waiting to see if Zuko would do the socially appropriate thing and speak during the pause. When he didn't, Sokka plowed on. "I play varsity soccer. Kind of a big deal," he puffed up, and Zuko couldn't tell whether the bravado was a joke or not. "I scored twice in our last game. I have this move I like to call the boomerang," he mimed cocking his arm back to throw a boomerang, "where I get the ball almost there, pass it to my buddy Haru..."

Zuko zoned out a little, just watching the enthusiasm with which Sokka explained his soccer strategy. He made the tea methodically; he'd done it so many times that it wasn't hard. As long as he nodded and let out the occasion encouraging noise, Sokka seemed happy just to have someone listening.

He gesticulated while he talked, arms frequently wheeling wildly through the air as he described his ideas, like they were too large to be expressed only in words. Strands of hair slipped free from his ponytail and trailed along the tops of his cheekbones, accentuating their sharp curves. His blue eyes were dancing now, alive with excitement as he explained about how one of his friends had a father who was an inventor, and how he sometimes spent afternoons there testing out new designs. He was in full flow about some hijinks he had gotten up to the week before, when he suddenly stopped.

“Most people don’t let me keep going for this long,” he said, eyebrow cocked. “Were you sleeping?”

“No, of course not,” Zuko said, then, to his own surprise, “You were just telling me about the time that you and your friend Teo tried to rig your own hot air balloon to the back of his wheelchair and accidentally set the side of his dad’s workshop on fire.” He busied himself with finding the correct lid for Sokka’s tea, but when he snuck a peek he saw that Sokka was studying him with an expression he’d never seen on the other boy’s face before. It could almost be described as shrewd. Then he blinked and it was gone.

“What about you?” Sokka asked, accepting the tea. Zuko started when their fingers brushed, but Sokka didn’t seem to notice.

“What about me?” Zuko said blankly.

“What’s your deal? You knooow…” Sokka waved vaguely in the air. “What do you like to do?”

“I, uh,” Zuko scratched his head. What did he like to do. _Come on asshole, come up with something!_  “I do martial arts, too,” he finally decided. “And I make tea,” he gestured lamely at the shop. “And I don’t really know anything else…” He decided at last ( _Decided what? To trust Sokka?_ ), “I used to get into trouble. So I’ve had to give up a lot of the stuff I thought I enjoyed. It turns out I didn’t really like it that much anyway. Especially after I got expelled.”

“I get that,” Sokka said.

“Really?” Zuko tried not to sound too skeptical. “How so?”

“I had this girlfriend,” Sokka said quietly. “Who died.”

“Oh.” Was _I’m sorry_  enough to encompass the tragedy?

“Yeah,” he let out a low huff of air. “But that’s not the point of the story! The point is that we used to do all kinds of stuff together and then after she died I sort of stopped caring about any of it. And I had to find new stuff I liked to do. I had to start over. Which sounds sort of like you.”

“Yes,” Zuko said slowly. “I suppose it does.”

They were quiet for a moment as Sokka sipped his tea. Then—

“Holy shit!” Sokka yelped.

“What?” Zuko whipped around, expecting to see someone trying to force entry into the locked store.

“This is AMAZING!” Sokka groaned. “Like, better than I remember it ever being before. How did you do it?!” He let out a sound that could only be described at orgasmic.

Zuko felt his ears go a little red. “I don’t know. I always make it that way.”

“Well you’re fucking magic!” Sokka declared. “Can I take you home with me?” He took another long pull of tea and sighed contentedly.

Now Zuko was definitely red in the face. He faked a fit of coughing so that he could turn around and attempt to pull himself together. He grabbed a cup at random and ran it under the faucet, gulping the water down.

When he turned back to Sokka, he was eying him with an odd expression.

“What?” he asked, very self-conscious.

“You have a tea leaf in your hair,” Sokka said, but he no longer sounded amused. His blue eyes flashed down to Zuko’s, then quickly up again, and he licked his lips nervously. Zuko’s eyes tracked the motion of his tongue, mesmerized.

He ran a hand through his hair, realizing that it was actually a bit embarrassing to have tea in his hair. He hadn’t thought of it that way with Sokka’s eyes on him. “Did I get it?”

“No,” now Sokka laughed, his eyes sparkling. “Let me.” He casually reached up to pluck a lone leaf from above Zuko’s right ear. “There you go.”

Zuko took the leaf numbly, turning it over in his palm. His scalp seemed to tingle slightly where Sokka’s fingers had brushed it.

“Thanks.” It took him another second to realize that Sokka was still standing in the small space between him and the sink. Only a few inches separated their bodies. He looked up into Sokka’s face.

“Oh, sorry!” Sokka backed up, bumping into the counter as he went. “Uh, yeah!” he looked down at the tea, back up Zuko, then started rummaging hurriedly in his pockets. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on me,” Zuko murmured. He felt humiliated. In that tiny moment, he had felt something long forgotten stirring in the pit of his stomach and now… He’d made an ass out of himself. Hadn’t Sokka just said he’d had a girlfriend? Weren’t half the cheerleaders in the school out for him? The last thing Zuko needed was to make a friend and then send him running in a gay panic. He didn’t need that ruining life at this school, too. Half his peers probably thought he was a freak already.

“You sure?” Sokka looked surprised, but pleased. “Thanks! I just realized that my Gran Gran is gonna expect me home soon, and I really shouldn’t miss my curfew, so…” he jogged back around the edge of the counter, and waved once he hit the door. “Come find me at school tomorrow, ok? I eat lunch with Katara and Aang and Toph! Good night!”

And then he was gone in a swirl of chilly spring air and the tinkling of the bell.

Zuko let out a long sigh. He must not have fucked up too badly if Sokka was still inviting him to sit with him at lunch, but… he wasn’t sure that he could accept. It was too weird, too complicated. Considering the way he’d reacted from barely twenty minutes interaction with Sokka, maybe friends were the last thing he needed. 

***

“Zuko! You are awfully late this evening,” Iroh’s words were reproving, but his tone was quite cheerful. “What kept you at the shop?”

“Nothing,” Zuko muttered, dropping down onto the chair next to Uncle’s. “One last customer came in, so I made him tea.”

“The nice blue-eyed boy? He is a very attractive young man. Very age-appropriate,” Iroh rustled his newspaper. He was reclining in his favorite worn red armchair, his feet propped up on a mismatched orange ottoman. He was wearing nothing but his lilac purple dressing robe, which clashed horribly.

“Uncle!” Zuko squawked. He felt his face coloring with embarrassment again. _Need to get that under control_  he reminded himself. It was going to give him away one of these days.

“No need to be ashamed, nephew,” Iroh said, patting him affectionately on the shoulder. “This boy seems as though he will be a better ‘companion’ to you than that other one.” He winked, just in case his meaning wasn’t clear enough.

“You—“ Zuko felt the blood drain from his face. “You knew about him? I mean, about him and me? And our…” he didn’t know what to say, how to explain.

“I have my ways,” he said, smiling secretively. “But the aftermath of that particular drama was not felt only by you, Zuko.” He shook his head sadly. “Unlike your father, my only desire for you in life is your happiness. If this new boy can make you happy, I am content.”

“It isn’t anything,” Zuko muttered, shaking his head. “How did you even know?”

“He frequents our shop regularly,” Iroh said, “but I did not know he was your friend until this evening when I came downstairs looking for you. I stood at the door, but you were too engrossed to notice.”

Zuko scowled, slightly creeped out by the idea of him uncle standing in the dark, spying on him.

“Do not fear, I did not stay long,” Iroh took a sip of the tea he had perched precariously on the arm of his chair. “But I saw enough to decide that he is a fine young man. Do you enjoy his company?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know! I don’t know him very well,” Zuko said.

“I see,” Iroh lowered his paper, surveying Zuko kindly over the top of it. “Perhaps you should come to know him better.”

“Maybe,” Zuko said, sinking low in his own chair. Why did Iroh always make him feel like he knew exactly what was happening inside his head? Zuko didn’t even really know half the time. “He’s nice, I guess. Funny. And I think he’s smart. He was talking about some kind of physics project he’s been doing. He plays soccer for the school team. And…” Zuko told Iroh all of the things that he knew about Sokka, failing to notice the way that Iroh’s eyes softened while they watched him. Nor the way that they slowly began to take on a sly, slightly calculating look.

Perhaps if he had he would have known to be worried. 

 

 


	4. Intermission No. 1: For the Love of Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intermission! Time for a little Toph/Suki love, but don't worry, this is just bonus. We'll get back to what you're really here for tomorrow ;-)

“Toph!” Suki ran to catch up to the girl. She was already nearly lost to sight in the crowded hallway ahead.

She turned, just in time for Suki to crash into her as she made to grab her arm.

“Whoa there,” Toph caught Suki with a steady hand. “Don’t get too eager, we wouldn’t wanna damage the goods.” Suki began to apologize, but Toph held up a hand. “Whadya need? I got class.”

“Um,” Suki twisted the hem of her skirt in her hands. She had rehearsed this to herself, hadn’t she? “Yeah, you, uh, are the geosciences tutor, right?”

“Right…” Toph said.

“So, um, I need tutoring!” Suki said. It came out a little louder than she meant it to, and she flinched. Toph seemed unperturbed.

“Cool,” Toph said, already turning to go. “Get my number from Sokka; I’ll be in the science workroom after school. See ya!” With a salute, she was swallowed by the crush of students.

“What was that about?” Lixing appeared at her elbow, smacking her gum loudly.

“I’m getting tutored in geoscience,” Suki said casually.

“Don’t you have an ‘A’ in that?” Lixing looked very confused. “So why…? Oh.”

“Yeah,” Suki said, fiddling with her zipper, hoping that they could leave it at that.

“Is that why you dumped Sokka? Does that mean I can try? Does he know you like Toph? Does—“ Suki did her best to tune out her babbling as they strolled down the hall to class.

***

“What did you get on your last exam?” Toph asked. She had a funny feeling about this “tutoring” session.

“Well,” came the quiet response. She heard Suki gulp a little as her backpack zipper opened with a metallic swish. There was the rustle of a folder being removed from the interior, papers rubbing softly together, and then the slide of one sheet as it was tugged free. “A ‘C-‘.”

But Suki’s voice quavered slightly, and her heartbeat, so clearly distinguishable to Toph, picked up just a few beats.

“Suki, why are you lying?” she said matter-of-factly. She knew why, of course, but to hear Suki say it would make her day.

“I’m not!” Suki squeaked, but then Toph felt her slump forward a little onto the table. “Ok, fine,” her voice returned to its normal pitch, and she sounded resigned and almost disgruntled. “You caught me. I have an ‘A’. Happy now?”

“Definitely,” Toph smirked. “But I still haven’t heard why you’ve been trying to get me alone.”

She could practically hear the eye roll that accompanied Suki’s words: “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yep. Tell me anyway.”

“Because… it seemed weird to ask you for your number. You’re a freshman.”

“Only 2 years difference, honey,” Toph said. She tried to quash her own rising nervousness. She was Toph Beifong, not some lily livered little girl. Sure, Suki was hot and funny and sweet (she was really everything anyone could ever want, what had Sokka been thinking?!), and she was popular and a fucking _cheerleader_ for Gods’ sake, but… She was Toph Beifong. She’d gotten into the pants of more formidable women.

“And… You’re Toph Beifong.”

 _Hell yeah I am_. She knew there was a shit-eating grin splitting her face in two.

“So now it’s out there,” she leaned in closer, feeling the temperature rise as her face came within inches of Suki’s. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

She had been expecting—well, hoping—that Suki would kiss her. What she did not expect was to be tackled out of her chair.

“Ooph,” she landed sprawled out on the ground, Suki’s lithe body atop hers. Suddenly a warm pressure descended on her mouth. She opened it instinctively, and felt Suki relax into her, nimble fingers threading into dark hair. Toph wrapped her arms enthusiastically around Suki, hauling her in for a deeper embrace, kissing her until she had to pull back, laughing as she tried to catch her breath.

“That works,” Toph whispered.

Suki’s tinkling laugh sounded from somewhere in the vicinity of her chest. She burrowed into Toph’s neck, trailing gentle kisses down her throat.

“I certainly hope so,” she murmured. “I expect you to tell me if I’ve lost my touch.”

“Mmhmm,” Toph hummed vaguely, too distracted by Suki’s mouth travelling across her collarbone to be able to make conversation.

“You still here?” Suki asked, crawling back up to lick at Toph’s lower lip. She laughed into Toph’s mouth as she arched up against her.

“You GU-UYS!” they broke apart, and Toph was distressed to feel Suki scrambling off of her.

“Sokka, you ruin everything,” she said despairingly, head thumping back into the floor tiles.

“What?!” he sputtered. “I’m not the one fucking on the floor of the science workroom!”

“We weren’t fucking,” the eye roll was implicit in Suki’s voice. “Although if you hadn’t interrupted…”

Toph chortled, “Good to know, babe. I’ll pretend to tutor you more often.”

“I just—“ Sokka’s voice rose an octave, “—I can’t UNSEE it. It’s just there now. Forever. Oh my god,” his voice grew muffled, and Toph assumed he had buried his face in his hands. “My ex and my best friend. EW. All I wanted was to test my physics project. And NOW.” Sokka groaned, “NOW I can’t even look at that piece of floor. It’s right in front of the door! How am I going to ever enter this room again?” He sank to the floor dramatically—Toph could feel the vibration as each body part hit the linoleum. “Where do I go from here?” he demanded dejectedly.

“Calm the fuck down, Snoozles,” she said calmly. “The lady and I can carry on elsewhere.” She got to her feet, holding a hand out to her side. A small, warm hand slid softly into hers, and Suki stepped up close, her body pressed to Toph’s arm.

“Should we give him one last show?” she whispered conspiratorially. Her breath stirred the hair on Toph’s neck, and she gave an involuntary shiver. Suki smelled like something green: pine, maybe, and the lush floweriness of jasmine. Her hair tickled at Toph’s shoulder as it swung forward.

“With pleasure,” Toph smiled, and, sliding on hand around Suki’s waist, towed her in for a slightly sloppy but thoroughly enjoyable kiss.

“I may be covering my eyes, but I can still hear the slurping,” Sokka complained. “You guys are gonna make me too sick to go to practice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's gonna happen at practice, Sokka? Are you ready for this?


	5. Old Times, New Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jet behaves like Jet, and poor Zuko continues to be confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a whopper… I'd love some feedback about what you do and don't like, and what you want to see more of!

Zuko wasn't sure how it happened. He honestly had no idea. But somehow, by some inexplicable forward inertia, he found himself walking straight past the student parking lot and over to the soccer fields. He could just spot Sokka in the distance, his pony tail bobbing as he ran. He looked good in the school's blue and silver uniform. _Really good_  Zuko realized, swallowing hard.

He hadn’t found him at lunch. If he wanted to be honest with himself, he knew that it was because he was scared. Friends weren’t a thing he’d had very often in the past, and even then it was mostly just his crazy sister and her two friends. And once he had dated one of them and broken her heart he had been pretty thoroughly ostracized by the group.

He reached the edge of the field and paused, gaze sweeping over the players to alight on the bleachers at the far end. Sokka hadn’t noticed him yet, too busy goofing off with his teammates. He wondered for a moment whether Sokka realized that the kid with the flimsy mustache was totally copping a feel, then snorted softly to himself. He was losing it, wasn’t he? That must be Haru, the guy that Sokka had told him about. He was just trying to project his own shit onto Sokka. And considering that they’d talked a total of two times, that was completely unfair.

With a sigh, he settled himself onto the bleachers. He leaned back to rest his elbows on the seat behind him, kicking his legs out and crossing them at the ankle. The day was breezy and sunny, not too wet for April, and he felt pleasantly warm in his faded old jeans and threadbare red sweater. He spied Sokka running down the field to join the rest of his team in some pre-practice laps. His head was bent in close to speak to a short, boyish girl with shaggy brown hair. She smiled up at him mischievously and suddenly he threw his head back and laughed. Zuko felt a sick swoop in his stomach. Then they turned the corner of the field and the whole group was running towards him.

Sokka glanced up at the bleachers and shaded his eyes with one hand. Then his whole face brightened and he waved energetically up at Zuko, his broad smile obvious even from so far away. Zuko waved back, the feeling in his abdomen easing. He was overreacting, just like usual. Hadn’t his father always said that was his worst trait? _Too emotional_  he chided himself. _Get it together, Zuko._

He watched Sokka speed by, his body powerful and graceful in motion. But then the coach blasted his whistle and the team was trotting back to him, forming up to perform some kind of drill.

Zuko let his eyes drift shut, contemplating whether to get out some homework while he waited for them to finish, or take a nap right here. Sokka had seen him; hopefully he would stop by as soon as he was done. How long did soccer practice take, anyway?

“Is this what you’re into now? Ogling the soccer queers?”

Zuko’s eyes snapped open. Something large and heavy felt like it had fallen onto his chest, obstructing his breathing. The voice had come from his left, and he didn’t move his head to see who was speaking. He knew. But why now? Why here? Had he inadvertently wandered onto his territory and was only being contacted for an ass-kicking?

“Or is it just one queer?” Jet strolled along the bleachers, holding his arms out to either side like a tight ropewalker. He furrowed his brow in mock-concentration, a lit cigarette clamped between his teeth. The posture, on any other person, would have been comical, but the stare that Jet leveled at him was too heated. He reached Zuko and stopped, one hand drifting up to remove the cigarette. He held it between his index and middle fingers, worrying at the unlit end with a ragged thumbnail. His head was cocked to the side, curiosity mixing with his ever-present rage.

“What do you want, Jet?” Zuko sat up, his hands automatically clenching into fists. He thought they’d had an unspoken truce, a mutual agreement that what had happened was never to be mentioned again. That they weren’t going to talk to each other. They had certainly coexisted at this school for the last few months without speaking. “Why now?”

“I’m not allowed to miss you?” Jet said, affecting a wounded expression. “You haven’t talked to me in months. I was starting to think you didn’t care any more.”

“I don’t,” Zuko said, not meeting his eyes.

“Really?” Jet clapped a hand to his breast, but his eyes narrowed. “I’m so hurt.” He turned back to scan the field. “Which of the fags are you into? C’mon,” he struck a pose that accentuated his thin frame, “I know you’re into skinny little twinks.”

Zuko closed his eyes again, trying to contain the anger bubbling up in his throat. Maybe if he didn’t rise, Jet would just go away.

“Zuuukooo.” He jumped. Jet had whispered directly into his ear. He scrambled away, elbow banging on the metal strut, arm nearly slipping through the gaps in the bleachers. Jet advanced, crawling along the metal bench above him. “Don’t run away,” he sang, flicking a bit of ash towards Zuko. It fluttered down onto him, getting trapped in his lashes like fresh snow.

Zuko felt his jaw clench, and then he reared up, making Jet jump back. His ass hit the bench with a metallic _clang_. Zuko’s arms were taut on either side of him, caging him in.

“What. Do. You. Want.”

“Just to talk!” Jet said, looking genuine for the first time. He worked his arm free to settle his cigarette back between his lips. “You made it go out,” he complained, pulling out a plastic lighter and thumbing it to life. He took a long drag, regarding Zuko with lazy eyes. “We haven’t talked. Not since…”

“I know,” Zuko edged off of him, throwing himself down onto the bleachers beside him. Jet offered him the cigarette and Zuko took it. He hadn’t smoked since the last time he’d been with Jet, and his head swam from the smoke. “Why now?” he repeated stubbornly. He stared at the lit end of the cigarette, watching the tiny red embers glow, dying and rekindling over and over again.

“Why are you watching soccer practice?” Jet countered.

“I wanted to clear my head,” he said, handing the cigarette back.

“Huh,” Jet took it, but didn’t immediately raise it to his lips. “Well this is where I smoke. So that’s why now.”

Zuko nodded. So it _was_  a case of pissing in the open to declare his territory.

“I wanted to talk to you anyway,” Jet said. Zuko felt his eyebrows jump almost involuntarily skyward.

“Really?” he said doubtfully.

“Yeah…” Jet ran a finger lightly along the hem of Zuko’s sweater, passing the cigarette back to Zuko. “One could say that things ended ‘badly’,” he sketched quotation marks in the air with his free hand.

“One could say that,” Zuko said wrly, taking a pull. He was preoccupied with the hand that was slowly making its way toward bare skin. Jet had always been presumptuous; he tried to stay still to minimize contact.

“But that wasn’t really either of our faults…” he wheedled, hand now splayed out across Zuko’s abs, chest pressed into Zuko’s arm. His mouth was floating centimetres away from Zuko’s right cheek. 

“No. But we were being stupid,” Zuko grated. “I was always being stupid when I was with you, Jet. We aren’t good for each other.” He knew that his voice sounded desperate, but it was because he couldn’t think with Jet so close, with his hand stroking abstract circles across his stomach. His hand shook on the cigarette between his lips.

“You were _alive_  with me,” Jet corrected. “I’ve seen you around here, moping in corners, eating all alone. Don’t you want it back?”

“No! I don’t know!” Zuko pulled away, wrenching Jet’s hand out from under his sweater. He was too angry even to be amused by how cliched Jet sounded. “I don’t want to get expelled again, ok?”

“You were gay before me, Zuko,” Jet said, and although his tone said the words weren’t meant to sting, they did. “You beat that guy up, not me.”

“Yeah, but what about the rest of it?” Zuko said. His voice cracked and he turned his face away, trying to pretend he wasn’t choked up.

“Not our fault,” Jet crooned. He kept his distance now, but Zuko could feel that old pull—almost a magnetic force—as he twisted back around, his body wanting to be near Jet’s. “Your dad…”

The whistle blew, shrill and loud, and Zuko spun around to face the field once more. He was breathing hard, like he’d been the one running instead of the players. They had been scrimmaging, and now were straggling along to the far distance benches to guzzle water and wipe themselves down with gym towels. Zuko spotted Sokka pouring water over his head, splashing it onto the girl’s. They were both laughing again.

Jet was watching him, and followed his gaze to its target. He frowned and snatched the cigarette back. Zuko came back to himself, forgetting Sokka for a moment.

“Can I come over tonight?” Jet asked suddenly.

Zuko’s head spun again. He was getting a strange sense of vertigo, of time repeating itself. “Uh, y-yeah, I guess,” he stammered out. He glimpsed Sokka out of the corner of his eye, talking animatedly to another player. The boy’s arm was resting across the shoulder of the girl’s, and she leaning into him, her hand caressing his lower back. He abruptly felt lighter.

“See you later, babe,” Jet smirked. He grabbed his backpack, and moved as though to leave. Then, lightning-quick, he stooped down and kissed Zuko. It was too fast for him to really register it, and then Jet was leaping off of the bleachers, pelting towards his truck. Zuko remembered it dimly from other times, other nights, with blankets spread across the bed and a bottle of whatever Jet had swiped from his parent’s liquor cabinet. It was more rusted now, suffering, like Jet himself, from the absence of his parent’s care. Those days felt like a lifetime ago, but the tingle that Jet’s lips had left on his was all too familiar.

“Zuko!”

He pulled himself back to the present as Sokka ran up to him. He had yanked off his jersey and hung it around his neck. His bare chest glistened with sweat and beads of water, and Zuko watched raptly as one rolled down his pec and across his ribs before dripping to the ground.

“…and the tea shop could probably do without you for an afternoon, right?”

“Wha-?” Zuko said. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“You ok in there?” Sokka tapped him on the forehead. “I was just asking if you wanted to hang out tonight. You know…” he reached back and pulled the elastic out of his hair, “we could go see a movie, or get some dinner, or go to the arcade. Shoot things in a manly bonding ceremony for the ages,” he held up his hands like a videogame character stalking enemies. “Or we could go to your place and watch TV. Whatever. I’d invite you to mine, but Katara is kind of anal-retentive about who meets Gran Gran, so…” he ran a hand through his hair, and Zuko struggled to focus on Sokka’s words.

“I can’t,” he managed.

“Oh,” Sokka said. His shoulders slumped in disappointment.

“I just already have plans!” Zuko said hastily. “Another time, though?”

“Yeah!” Sokka was back to normal already. “You weren’t at lunch today! What happened?”

“Nothing, I just didn’t want to intrude,” Zuko dropped his scrutiny to his hands.

“I invited you,” Sokka laughed. “That sort of makes intrusion impossible.”

“Ok,” Zuko said.

“Ok…” Sokka shifted back and forth, clearly hoping Zuko would say more.

“I gotta go,” Zuko stood up and draped his backpack over his shoulder.

“Already?” Sokka said. “Hold on a sec, lemme grab my bag.” He sprinted away, returning quickly with a giant pack slung with multicolored clips holding water bottles and hair ties. “Can I walk you to your car?”

“Sure.”

They strode along in silence, but Zuko couldn’t help peeking over at Sokka every few seconds. His face was tighter than usual, and he was biting his lip like he was trying to resolve some difficult internal struggle. Zuko frowned at the pavement under their feet, wondering why he was so quiet. Then he snorted to himself. _He_  was the one who was always too quiet.

They reached his car and he stopped. Sokka walked right into him, rebounding off his arm with an “Ooph.”

“Sorry,” Zuko said, “this is it.”

“Oh my god,” Sokka said. His eyes were bulging slightly. Zuko grimaced; he had been afraid of this. His father had repossessed surprisingly few of his belongings when he’d kicked him out, and he had bought him the car when he turned 16.

“You have a Porsche,” Sokka turned dazzled eyes onto Zuko. He looked fit to explode.

“Um. Yes,” was Zuko’s very eloquent response.

“It’s so—“ Sokka ran a reverent hand over its hood, and Zuko wondered abstractly whether he handled _everything_  with such care. He shook himself. _How can you honestly make a guy touching a_ car _dirty?_

“My father bought it,” Zuko said apologetically. “I didn’t pick it out. It’s a little too… something for me.”

“A little too AWESOME?!” Sokka yelped. “Oh man, can you take me out in it? How fast does it accelerate?” Sokka’s face was shining, and Zuko couldn’t bring himself to deny him.

“0-60 in 2.5 seconds,” he admitted.

“WOW,” Sokka mouthed.

“Do you need a drive home?” Zuko chanced.

“Oh _man_ ,” Sokka moaned. “Seriously? I want to. I want to _so bad_. But my car is over there,” he gestured towards a beat up old Mustang, “and I can’t leave it here. But another time? Please, god, tell me we can go for a drive another time.”

“Sure,” Zuko said, and he smiled almost in spite of himself. “Another time.”


	6. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko realizes that he is Grown Woman, and doesn't have to take Jet's crap. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is also sort of a big one, but somehow way easier to write than the ones that are gonna come after it? I have no idea why.  
> It also might be both a blow and bone for the Jetko shippers out there, but I hope everyone enjoys :-) I totally had some feels while writing it.

“Why was that soccer fag asking questions about you yesterday?”

Zuko jumped, his calculus binder sliding to the floor. He bent to pick it up, looking warily up into Jet’s angry face. He hadn’t heard him enter the apartment, but then again, Jet could be stealthy when he wanted to be. He stood up from the table, pushing his chair in dutifully. Jet’s eyes sparkled maliciously at him as he walked over to the counter, filled a glass of water, and drained it. He set it down on the granite before turning to face Jet.

“I don’t know him that well,” Zuko said tiredly. He was sure that must be the correct answer, although he had never been good at lying to Jet. “I don’t know why he would ask about me.” At the same time his heart contracted a little. _He asked about me?_

“I think he has a little crush,” Jet spat. He stepped closer. Zuko crossed his arms over his chest defensively. He couldn’t tell if he was trying to protect himself from Jet’s blatant jealousy, or hold himself together in light of his own confusion.

“That’s ridiculous. We’ve barely even talked to each other,” Zuko said, but he felt his face flush.

“Oh really?” Jet flicked his cigarette to the ground. It landed squarely in the middle of one of Iroh’s new tiles. Jet ground it in with his heel, making Zuko flinch. He stooped to retrieve it, but one of Jet’s hands fastened on his upper arm, hauling him upright. He was pushed back against the counter, wedged immovably between the refrigerator and Jet’s body.

“Do you think about him?” Jet stepped up close, invading his personal space. “Do you want,” his teeth grazed Zuko’s ear lobe, making him shiver, “to fuck him?” Jet made the word even more explicit by grinding his pelvis into Zuko’s.

Zuko closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and tried desperately not to respond. _Don’t_  he told himself _Don’t let yourself get turned on by this. You are better than this. You are better than him_. But in his heart, he wasn’t so sure. Jet had many dubious talents, and getting under Zuko’s skin was one of his stronger ones.

“Come on, Zuko,” Jet said, and one hand came up, deceptively tender, to cup his cheek. His thumb stroked lazily, torturously, over Zuko’s lower lip. “You don’t want Sokka. You want me. You’ve always wanted me.”

Zuko’s hips twitched. _Damn it_.

With a triumphant moan, Jet kissed him. Trapped as he was against the counter, the angle was awkward. Jet was bowing him back, the hand that had caressed his jaw now wrapped around the back of his head, nails biting into his scalp. The edge of the counter was cutting into his lower back, and when he tried to move his arm to—to do what? Reel Jet in closer, or drive him away?—he didn’t have enough room to free it. He pushed at Jet’s chest, finally with enough force to detach himself.

For a moment they stood there, both panting. Jet had a wild light in his eyes, the kind of light Zuko was used to seeing before they stole a car, or got into a fight, or broke his bed frame at 2 in the morning trying out a new position.

He stared at Jet’s mouth. It was open slightly, the light pink of his tongue barely visible until it darted out to swipe deliberately at his lips. _Shit._  That had always been Zuko’s undoing and Jet knew it. Zuko’s gaze flickered upward; Jet’s eyes were focused on him, and for a moment Zuko felt sure he could read his mind: _Go or stay? Do this incredibly stupid thing, or choose self preservation._

Zuko closed the distance. He had never been very good at looking out for himself.

Jet growled his approval, grabbing Zuko by the front of the shirt and hoisting him onto the kitchen table. His hands were at his fly, effortlessly freeing the button and zipper to drag them down over Zuko’s hips. Zuko hadn’t done laundry all week, and Jet smiled wickedly when Zuko’s cock sprang free, unencumbered by boxers.

“You knew I was coming, didn’t you?” he hissed, dropping to his knees.

Zuko couldn’t resist, “I don’t think it’s you who’s coming tonight, Jet.”

Jet laughed, and Zuko did his best to pretend the sound wasn’t cruel, didn’t grate at his fried nerves. He didn’t want to think about this, about how this was a bad decision, a step backward, about the fact that they were fucking on his _uncle’s kitchen table_. He guessed it must be better than his father’s private pool, because look where that had gotten them… he shuddered, and not from the way that Jet was licking up his shaft.

Yes, Jet’s mouth. Zuko shook himself, trying to pay attention only to Jet. It wasn’t hard; Jet’s mouth had just engulfed him, his tongue curving around the underside of his dick before flicking upward, lathing over the tip.

Zuko bit back a cry, one hand supporting his weight on the table, the other rising to cover his own mouth. His hips were pinned down by Jet’s hands, which was just as well. If he let go, nothing would stop him from thrusting up into Jet’s mouth, and that would piss him off. He groaned at the thought.

“Mm, have you always been this loud?” Jet had let Zuko’s cock go with a small _pop_ , and was smirking up at him from the floor. “I must be better than you remembered.” He laughed again, and Zuko had to close his eyes to keep the look on Jet’s face from deflating his erection.

“Just finish,” he whispered, fingers knotting in Jet’s hair. He wasn’t an asshole, he wouldn’t push Jet’s head down there, but suddenly he felt a bit sick.

“Only if you say please,” Jet had risen from his crouch, his face now on a level with Zuko’s. He palmed himself through his jeans, leering, “and, you know, if you’re willing to discuss taking care of me afterward.” His tongue skimmed out of his mouth again, but this time it was directed at Zuko’s cheek, towards the edge of his…

“GET OUT!” Zuko surged to his feet, shoving Jet, who overbalanced, toppling against the kitchen counter. For a second his eyes were wide, shocked, but he recovered himself quickly.

“What?” he sneered, “Scared I’ll tell _him_  how you got that SCAR?” He made the word even uglier than it already was, hurling it at Zuko like an obscenity.

“Fuck you, Jet,” Zuko was shaking. He was in no danger of mistaking this feeling for arousal; he pulled his pants back up. “Get the fuck out.”

“Why? You’ll only want me back. I’m the only one who gives a shit about you, Zuko. The only one who knows how your daddy burned your fucking face because he caught you screwing a gu—“

**_Wham._**  Zuko’s fist connected solidly with the side of Jet’s face.

“Fuck,” Zuko cradled his fist in his hand, flipping droplets of blood to the floor. He had split his knuckle open on Jet’s cheek. *\ _Well he did always pride himself on having sharp cheekbones_  he though randomly, and had to repress the absurd desire to laugh.

“And seriously: _fuck you_.” He grabbed the collar of Jet’s shirt with his uninjured hand, dragging him into the entryway. His hip caught the edge of the table, sending its contents spilling to the ground, but he kicked it aside as he yanked the door open. “Don’t come back,” he said, knowing it sounded like the melodramatic breakup scene in one of those rom-coms his uncle loved. He slammed the door in Jet’s snarling face, throwing every lock he could find on the damn thing.

Then he slumped against it, letting the adrenaline run its course.

Eventually he had to stand. Moving towards the hall table, he began to collect the objects that belonged on it. A solitary bookend that supported _The Teamaster’s Guide_ , a heavy wooden bowl to hold their keys, a few elastic hairbands for when Iroh decided to take up yoga again and wanted his hair out of the way…

_Stupid_  Zuko chided himself. _That was stupid_. In a perverse way, he supposed he was proud of himself. He had finally stood up to Jet, finally thrown him out. He had done it once; he could do it again. But before he had worked up the courage, he had let it get so far. He had literally been caught with his pants down, and resorted to hitting the guy to keep him from saying all the things Zuko knew were true.

_What would Uncle say about this_? Zuko hung his head, the shame overwhelming.

He traipsed back into the kitchen. Besides a few chairs knocked askew, it looked remarkably ordinary. He bent to finally pick up Jet’s fallen cigarette, relieved to see that it hadn’t scorched the tile. He tossed it out the window, hoping that Uncle wouldn’t notice the lingering smell of smoke.

For a moment he considered sticking his head under the tap to see if that helped clear it, but instead he wandered towards his bedroom. He collapsed onto the bed, letting himself sink into the mattress before rolling over and stripping off his clothes. He climbed in under the covers, closing his eyes.

His mind was still whirling, replaying the scene in the kitchen over and over again. It hadn’t just been Jet’s fault. For a moment he had really thought he wanted it; wanted Jet like he had when they’d first met. It had been so strong then, the desire to possess him. Like nothing would ever matter again as long as he could touch him. Now that desire was gone, and the realization made him feel tired and empty.

He clenched his eyes more tightly shut. When Jet had sunk down, taken Zuko into his mouth… Zuko’s mind changed the scene, making it so that instead of looking away, he looked down his body, and it was no longer Jet on his knees, but the blue-eyed boy.

“Sokka,” he breathed, his hand reaching down, hoping for Sokka’s hair but finding his own erection, which had sprung to action the moment it became clear that fantasy-Jet had been replaced. Sokka’s mouth was sweeter, warmer somehow, and the way those eyes met his, with passion instead of challenge, made his mouth go dry. His hand moved of its own accord, stroking a new sensation across his skin, even as his sleepy mind travelled to even stranger places, full of blue eyes and soft lips.

The desire for Jet was gone, but in its place… there was room for something different, and as soon as Zuko felt pressure spiraling, tight and hot in the small of his back, he knew. He was in so much trouble.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get me wrong, sometimes power dynamics are totally fun… But between Azula, Ozai, Mai, and Jet, I think poor Zuko has had enough of that for a lifetime. 
> 
> Side note: In this Sokka/Zuko are seniors, Jet/Katara/Suki are juniors, and Toph/Aang are freshmen. I forgot to say before, but it was probably fairly obvious.


	7. Iroh Is Always Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're currently clocking in at 12 chapters and some change… think you guys could handle 2 chapters a day? Let me know in the comments! 
> 
> P.S. Toph/Suki will continue to be bonus and posted with other chapters no matter what :-)

Zuko’s feet dragged as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. The shop had been busy all afternoon, and Sokka hadn’t even come in. Not that Zuko should have expected it; not that he would have known what to do if he had appeared. He scrubbed a hand over his face. After last night, how was he going to be able to look him in the eye? He was such a creep. He’d jacked off to him after throwing his deranged ex-boyfriend out on his ass. He should probably just do the decent thing and leave him alone from now on.

He thumped his forehead against the wood of the front door, then pulled back to insert the key into the lock. It scraped harshly in the silence of the foyer. He was so tired. So tired of Jet being crazy and himself being weak and his father being… _No. Don’t go down that rabbit hole. Not tonight._

He pushed the door open and made his way into the kitchen, thinking that maybe he’d be able to finish some English homework before bed.

"Uncle? Before you ask, the 'nice blue-eyed boy' wasn't there this aftern--" he pulled up short, frozen in the act of tossing his keys to the counter. "Oh."

“Nephew!” Iroh said, grinning maniacally from across the kitchen table, “This fine young man knows how to play Pai Sho!”

Zuko’s mouth went dry. Twisting around from where he’d been facing Uncle, Sokka shot him a self-satisfied smile. He looked good today; wearing a deep blue v-neck sweater just a few shades darker than his eyes and a pair of soft-looking grey jeans.

“Who’s this blue-eyed boy, Zuko?” he asked sweetly, eyes dancing with amusement.

“Uh, I, um. Excuse me.” Zuko practically ran to his bedroom. Unfortunately, the best route to the back hallway was through the kitchen, and his foot snagged on the table leg, almost sending him flying. Sokka was out of his chair with nearly unnatural speed, catching him mid-fall.

“You ok?” he asked, alarmed. Zuko wrenched free from his grip, stammered apologies, and barely made it into his room before he was curled on the floor, trying hard not to panic.

His uncle and Sokka. Playing Pai Sho on the very table where he and Jet… _Oh god._  He thought he might be sick.

He hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on, and he was grateful for it now that his head had started pounding. What the hell was he supposed to do?

He could hear soft voices coming from the kitchen, and then the sound of a chair scraping back. There was a tentative knock on his door. He sprang to his feet just in time for it to open a crack.

“Zuko?” Sokka poked his head around the edge of the door. “Can I come in?” He stepped inside anyway. He looked around in the semi-darkness. Zuko knew there was nothing embarrassing lying around, but he still felt self-conscious at having Sokka in his bedroom. It was almost too neat, he knew. His father had always insisted on perfection, and he had kept the habit. To have Sokka and his gigantic personality filling the space made it feel even more sparse.

Zuko squared his shoulders and faced him.

“What are you doing here?” he hissed. He sounded angrier than he really was. He was just so exhausted that modulating his emotions was even harder than usual.

“Playing Pai Sho,” Sokka shrugged casually, but there was unease in his eyes.

“Why?”

“Iroh invited me last night, when you weren’t in the shop,” Sokka said, waving back over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. He paused, then his eyebrows pulled up in a caricature of puppy-dog eyes, “Are you mad at me?”

Zuko restrained himself from rolling his eyes. “No,” he muttered. “Whatever.”

“You are mad!” Sokka protested. “I’m sorry!”

“No,” Zuko ran a hand through his hair distractedly. He had been planning to talk to Iroh about Jet and the shit-show that had occurred yesterday. _Hopefully without the botched blow job_  he added to himself. “No, I’m really not. I was just surprised.”

“Oh good,” Sokka chewed on his lower lip, shuffled his feet a little. “I, uh, came hoping you’d be here?”

“You did?” Zuko felt like his entire face had ignited. Hopefully in the half-light coming in from the hall Sokka wouldn’t notice.

“But no pressure!” Sokka held up his hands. “If you don’t want to hang out…I just didn’t see you around today, but I’m not an asshole. I won’t push you. If you don’t like me, just tell—“

“NO!” it came out way louder than he expected. Sokka’s eyebrows rose as he tried to recover, “No, you aren’t pushy! I like you!” Internally he wanted to slap himself. _I like you?!_  He would never be able to come back from this.

Sokka stepped forward, resting a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. He looked into his face, his expression bemused. “You kind of suck at this, don’t you?”

Zuko was so surprised that he laughed. Actually laughed out loud, in a way that he couldn’t remember having done in years. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the stress, or the shock of having Sokka standing in his bedroom smiling at him, but he laughed. It felt surprisingly good, like something he didn’t know was dammed up inside suddenly becoming unblocked.

“Zuko?!” Iroh appeared at the door, flinging it open so hard in his haste that it slammed against the wall. “Are you alright?”

Sokka jumped away from him, and Zuko imagined for a moment the way that they must have looked, standing so close together in the darkness. His laughter faded in the stunned silence.

“Yes!” he said, bewildered.

“There was a noise!” Iroh said, staring around the room.

“I…” Zuko flushed an even deeper red.

“He laughed,” Sokka said. He was looking back and forth between Iroh and his nephew, obviously confused.

“He did?” Iroh said, his eyes wide. He moved swiftly toward Zuko and swept him up into his arms, enfolding him in a crushing embrace. Zuko heard him snuffle against his shoulder, and he freed an arm to pat him awkwardly on the back.

“Um, Uncle…?” Iroh finally released him, and turned abruptly to hurry back to the kitchen. There was the distinctive sound of Iroh blowing his nose.

“What the actual fuck, Zuko?” Sokka said, staring after Iroh.

“I don’t really know how to explain,” Zuko said helplessly.

Thankfully, Iroh chose the moment to crowd back into the doorway. “I have mochi ice cream to celebrate this happy occasion,” he declared imperiously. “Zuko, you must join us in our Pai Sho game. Sokka needs a little help,” he stage whispered, shooting Sokka a wink.

Zuko grimaced at Sokka in apology, but he only smiled and followed Iroh back to the table.

“You can tell me later,” he mouthed behind Uncle’s back. Zuko nodded, unsure what he was going to say, and sat down. Sokka immediately seated himself directly next to him.

Trying to pretend he wasn’t taken in by the scent of Sokka’s hair—how was it possible that the smell of Sokka made him think of bright winter days after a fresh snow fall?—he whispered in his ear, “Eat lunch with me behind the greenhouse tomorrow?”

He had to have imagined the shudder that went through Sokka’s body as his lips nearly brushed his ear, but then Sokka was nodding and smiling up at Iroh. He passed them each a plate, and then sat down, beaming knowingly at Zuko all the while. Zuko tried to ignore him, but he had a feeling that this evening had been carefully orchestrated.

It turned out that Sokka was a much better Pai Sho player than Zuko had ever been. It was a proven fact that no one could ever beat Uncle, but he certainly tried. All Zuko could do was sit by and offer half-hearted advice that Sokka very intelligently ignored. He was (Zuko hated to use the word) actually kind of cute, bent over the board with his tongue between his teeth, occasionally letting out exultant yells or despondent groans as the game progressed. And the entire time, he kept finding excuses to touch Zuko.

It started out innocently enough, with a brush of their ankles under the table that made Zuko freeze mid-sentence. But soon Zuko had the sneaking suspicion that Sokka was teasing him, although he couldn’t understand why. Sokka’s foot bumping his by accident was one thing, but Sokka’s hand stroking up his leg, making his breath hitch while Sokka smiled blandly across the table at Uncle? That was completely bizarre.

It all culminated when Iroh declared his win and stood to pour himself a congratulatory cup of tea. Under cover of the whistling kettle, Sokka bent his head close to Zuko’s and brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. “I should head out. Walk me to the door?”

Zuko nodded numbly, not sure what to do. Sokka’s fingers had lingered alarmingly in his hair, and he was glued to his seat while he wrestled with the mad desire to pin Sokka to the table and kiss that knowing smirk off his face. But Iroh was right there, and this was the table where he had let Jet suck him off only last night. Now was definitely not the time to try making out with Sokka.

So instead he got up and directed Sokka out into the hall. He pulled the front door open but dawdled, unsure how to end the evening.

“I had fun,” Sokka said finally, and his tone was almost shy. Zuko was taken aback. Shy Sokka was like angry Iroh. Something inconceivable until you were faced with it.

“I did too,” he confessed, smiling slightly. “I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah,” Sokka let out a small laugh. “I’m just happy you didn’t kick me out.”

“Never,” Zuko murmured. He was surprised he had let it slip out, and even more surprised to find that he meant it. There was something dark in Sokka’s eyes as he looked at Zuko now, and Zuko wanted more than anything to close the space, to reach up and run his fingers through Sokka’s hair, to reel him in and…

“Good night,” he said instead. He gave a little wave, then flinched. _Stop before you hurt someone, asshole_.

Sokka didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah,” he said quietly, and was Zuko imagining that he looked frustrated? Hope welled up in Zuko’s chest, but he beat it back. There was nothing to get excited about. Sokka was his friend. He should just be happy he finally had one at all.

Sokka turned to go, and Zuko turned too, beginning to close the door.

“Hey Zuko,” Sokka stopped on the top step, turning back over his shoulder to look him boldly in the eye. Zuko froze. “You know I like you too, right?”

Zuko nodded, his throat constricting.

“Good,” Sokka nodded solemnly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

***

Zuko closed the door behind him and walked slowly back to the kitchen. Uncle was cleaning up the Pai Sho board and carefully stowing away his tiles, but he paused when Zuko reentered the room.

“You look in need of some tea,” he said placidly.

Zuko grunted in agreement and sat heavily in a chair. He was feeling too many conflicting emotions at once to be able to speak right away. The night had been fun. So fun, in fact, that he was half worried he had imagined it. He was worried that he had similarly hallucinated the way Sokka had been with him, all gentle ribbing and covert brushes. He shivered, and then gave in and rested his forehead on the edge of the table.

“The trials of young love?” Iroh asked, setting a mug of tea down in front of him.

Zuko didn’t look up, but shook his head against the tabletop.

“No? Well then,” Iroh blew gently across his own cup, “friendship has certainly changed since I was a young man.” He sipped his tea. “You are troubled tonight, Zuko.”

Finally finding his voice, Zuko looked up a little. Iroh was considerately studying his tea rather than his nephew.

“I messed up, Uncle,” Zuko said, hands fisting in his own hair. He stared down at the warped grain of the kitchen table. Sokka’s friendly laugh and casual touches echoed through his mind.

“I let him back in. Just for a few minutes yesterday, and now I’m all messed up.”

“You are speaking about Jet, I assume?” Iroh said.

Zuko nodded.

Iroh sighed. “That boy has always been trouble,” he lamented. “I do not regret that he showed you who you really are, but there are many other things he convinced you of that were much less beneficial. That you do not deserve to be loved by another,” he shook his head sadly, “is perhaps the worst. Jet has been abandoned, and so he clings to those he has left.”

“I don’t want to be what he ‘clings’ to,” Zuko said. “I don’t want any of it.”

“I know, nephew,” Iroh said. “Sometimes we cannot choose the people we gravitate towards. But you have matured past Jet. You are prepared for a healthy relationship with one who truly loves you.”

Hazily, Zuko knew this ought to be an extremely embarrassing conversation to be having with his uncle. At the same time, however, he was grateful that he seemed to understand, to affirm the things that Zuko had been feeling for so long.

“I’m just so angry at him,” he whispered. “What happened wasn’t his fault. But if I hadn’t been seeing him…”

“It would have happened anyway,” Iroh said. “Ozai is not a tolerant man. If it was not Jet, it would have been another boy.”

“I know,” Zuko squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears beginning to well. “I know that.”

“It may not have been his fault, but it was not yours either.”

“I got into the fight.”

“Yes, but your father drove you to that as much as the boy who you fought. He taught you the wrong beliefs as a child, and left you to defend yourself,” Iroh’s chest puffed up proudly. “I would rather raise a son who knows what is right for himself and will defend it, than raise a boy who hides his true nature.”

“I didn’t just attack him,” Zuko said, raising his face to his uncle’s. “You know that, right?”

“Of course. I would not have commended your bravery if I thought you were a psychopath,” Iroh laughed.

Zuko smiled back, rubbing at his eyes.

“Look at that,” Iroh said, delighted. “You are smiling once more. When I heard you laugh earlier…”

“Oh no,” Zuko groaned. “I have to explain to Sokka about that tomorrow. He was so confused.”

“It had been far too long since I had heard the sound,” Iroh said. “I almost thought you had lost the ability. I hope that Sokka remains a fixture of our lives. I would like to hear you laugh much more often from now on.”

 

 


	8. Behind the Greenhouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty much a first date, right…?

Waiting for Sokka to arrive behind the greenhouse the next day was the most nerve-wracking experience Zuko had ever had. He paced back and forth in the fresh earth of the school’s garden, trying to come to some sort of decision. He had slept surprisingly well the night before, and had woken up feeling oddly optimistic. Sokka had been friendly last night. A little  _too_  friendly for someone who just wanted to be friends, right?

Now that optimism was rapidly draining out of him, being replaced by his own fears. He had to have read it wrong. And now Sokka wasn’t going to come, and he was going to sit here all alone for the lunch period, replaying in his head exactly what had gone wrong.

“Hey,” Sokka strolled around the edge of the greenhouse, and Zuko felt the simultaneous urges to hug him and to vomit into the tomato plants. He resisted both.

“Hi,” he said.

“I brought a blanket!” Sokka said. He looked extremely pleased with himself. He dropped his backpack on the ground and began to dig around in it, dislodging several books and a pile of rumpled papers. “Ah ha!” he finally pulled out a fairly clean striped picnic blanket. “Here we go.” He busied himself with spreading it out on the ground and weighing down the corners with dog-eared books. Zuko snuck a look at the covers. They all had names like “The Path of Daggers” and “At Worlds’ End”. He smiled slightly. He hadn’t pegged Sokka for a reader, much less someone who enjoyed high fantasy.

“Now food,” Sokka said, pulling out a crumpled brown bag. “You can’t go wrong with bacon! Unless you’re Aang,” he added on second thought, “but that’s religious or something.” He pulled out several sandwiches, two bottles of water, a bag of cookies, and a peach. “Have some!” he said, choosing a sandwich for himself.

Zuko took one and unwrapped it. He wasn’t shocked so much as pleasantly surprised to find that it was delicious. “You made lunch?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sokka said proudly. “Except the cookies. Katara’s way better at that kind of thing.” He munched happily on his sandwich, soon starting a second.

Zuko ate more slowly, taking time to watch Sokka and let the afternoon sink in. It was another warm day, with fleecy white clouds scudding across the bright blue sky. The blanket beneath him was soft and comfortable, and Sokka’s chatter was amusing to listen to while he ate. He was wearing a white tee shirt and jeans today, and Zuko decided that it was completely unfair for any person to look that good in something so simple.

“You’re really tan,” he said suddenly, breaking Sokka off mid-flow.

“What? Oh,” Sokka looked down at his own arm like he was mildly startled, “yeah. Inuit ancestry. My Gran Gran and my parents both came from the Arctic. My dad is up there right now with his boyfriend, Bato, working on a container ship.”

“Your parents are divorced?” Zuko asked. He reached out without meaning to and traced a finger across Sokka’s bare forearm.

“Oh, no, they aren’t,” Sokka sounded distracted. “My mom died. Bato was always his best friend, but I think that afterwards they became… more.” His eyes met Zuko’s. His hand was frozen on Sokka’s arm. The news about his mother’s death was filtering through Zuko’s brain slowly, but something about Sokka’s tone had caught him right away.

“My mom is gone, too,” Zuko said finally, if only to break the tension. He pulled his hand back, not noticing the disappointed sigh Sokka let out.  

“I’m sorry,” Sokka picked up the peach and began to section it out with a pocketknife. “How old were you?”

“Just a kid,” Zuko said.

“Me too.”

They ate for another moment in silence. The peach was warm and sweet, and he felt juice trickle down his fingers. He brought one up to his mouth, sliding it in to suck the juice away. He glanced up to see Sokka staring at him, eyes wide, cheeks slightly flushed. Zuko was confused for a second, but then the meaning went off like a firecracker in his brain. _Oh._

“Fuck it,” Sokka hissed, and he dropped the fruit to the ground, hands reaching forward to cup Zuko’s face. He kissed him chastely at first, his lips ghosting lightly across Zuko’s. Zuko’s eyes were still open, and he stared in astonishment at Sokka, whose eyes were clenched determinedly shut.

Then he gave in and spread his legs from their awkward cross-legged position, stretching out to grab Sokka by the biceps and draw him closer. He tried to take charge, opening his lips a little to return the kiss, but the moment he did Sokka was lying *on top of him*, his tongue licking at his lower lip, teasing his mouth open. Sokka tasted like peaches and sunlight, and he kissed like a dream. Everything was warmth and long, languorous strokes of tongue. He felt his head swimming with the intensity of it all. His hands floated up Sokka’s back, feeling the contraction of the muscles holding Sokka suspended above him, feeling the tension in his body. Was Sokka holding back?

He nipped experimentally at Sokka’s lip and was rewarded with a deep groan that rumbled through his body. Sokka’s hips twitched, and Zuko stilled, his hands clasped on either side of his waist. He wanted nothing more than to break Sokka, to unleash whatever was making him vibrate like that, but… He *liked* Sokka. This wasn’t like with Jet, and he didn’t want it to be. He should slow down and try to talk to Sokka about this. He gulped nervously and broke the kiss, turning his head away so that he could breath.

“Oh no,” Sokka clambered back. Zuko was satisfied to see that he wasn’t the only one reddening. Sokka was blushing too, and his lips were swollen and pink and… he couldn’t help it. He shot up after him, wrapped his arms around Sokka’s neck, and kissed him hard. He didn’t care that they were on school property, or that anyone could walk by. He didn’t care if everyone in the town was waiting on the other side of the greenhouse listening to them. All he wanted was to get Sokka to make that _sound_  again, that hot, breathy, _wanting_  sound that he had made when Zuko kissed him. He slid into Sokka’s lap, one thigh on either side of his, and lowered himself down, using his greater height to press Sokka’s head back, to tangle his hands in his hair and lick into his mouth. His breath was coming shakily, and he could feel Sokka trembling beneath him. He came to settle fully against him, and then he felt…

This time Sokka stopped them, but it was clear from the almost pained expression on his face why he had. His eye were wild as they stared up at Zuko, and his hands clenched bruisingly at Zuko’s hips, holding him perfectly still.

“I am trying to think about dead puppies,” he gritted out.

Zuko laughed for the second time in as many days, fingers pulling idly on Sokka’s ponytail. “That’s flattering,” he said.

“Ugh,” Sokka groaned. “Nnngh, why is this so hard?” He blanched, realizing what he’d said, and Zuko laughed even harder, slumping over Sokka’s shoulder. He rested his face in the crook of his neck, and a second later Sokka did the same.

“Maybe you should get off me,” he suggested, but his arms tightened around Zuko’s back. “That would help.”

“Yeah, probably,” Zuko extricated himself, still grinning like a loon.

“Oh man,” Sokka shot a furtive look at Zuko before reaching down to adjust himself. “I’m sorry about that. I, uh, usually have better self-control. I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“No, I’m great,” Zuko said. It was true. He felt amazing; light and bouncy, like he could fly over the roof of the greenhouse and just keep soaring.

Sokka was looking at him, and the fierce pleasure in his eyes took Zuko’s breath away.

“What?” he said self-consciously.

“I thought you were never gonna get it,” Sokka said, rolling his eyes. “I was so _obvious_!”

“Obvious?” Zuko spluttered. “No you weren’t!”

“I thought I was being clear!” Sokka said, throwing his hands up into the air. “I literally said the words ‘I like you’! I had my hand on your leg for god’s sake! Do you let people you don’t want to bone touch your thigh?” he stopped, eyeing Zuko, “You don’t, right? Stranger danger is important.”

“Of course not,” Zuko snorted. “I just can’t read people… You told me yourself that I suck at this!”

“You do,” Sokka said. “I mean, you suck at the feelings. The rest of it,” his eyes traced over Zuko’s mouth and he licked his lips unconsciously. Zuko wanted to bite that lip. Sokka collected himself. He pointed indignantly at Zuko’s chest, “How can you be so terrible, though? You get hit on! You’re really fucking hot!”

“Um, no, I don’t really,” Zuko said, blushing even more furiously. “At least, not since,” he touched the edge of his scar. Sokka’s face fell.

“That’s a stupid reason not to hit on someone,” he said quietly.

“Why don’t you ask me about it?” Zuko said suddenly. “Everyone’s always whispering about it behind my back, but you… You never even look at it.”

“It’s just a part of you,” Sokka shrugged, looking down at the remains of their lunch. Then he smacked himself in the face, “Ugh, that sounded so corny. I’m sorry. My brain just turns to mush around you, ok? I can’t be held responsible for what comes out of my mouth.” He scowled to himself. “But seriously? I figured you’d tell me if you wanted to. If you trusted me, or whatever. It isn’t my business.”

Zuko felt that strange tightness in his throat again. He cleared it loudly, unsure what to say past, “Thanks. That’s really…”

“It’s cool, man,” Sokka said, shrugging. “Just common decency. It isn’t my fault half the people in this place are dickheads.”

“I’m not ready yet,” Zuko said. “It’s not because I don’t trust you!” he assured Sokka. “I’m just not… there yet.”

“Ok. Yeah. That’s fine,” Sokka said. He peeked at Zuko from between his fingers, and there was a slow grin spreading across his face. “Oh my god, we totally just made out.”

“Yeah,” Zuko grinned back. “We did.”

Sokka flopped back onto the blanket. “Finally!” he yelled, punching the air.

Zuko watched him celebrate, basking in the moment. Sokka was so completely out of his league, he thought. _How did this even happen? What did I do to deserve this?_

“Hey, don’t float away,” Sokka said, sitting up. He slid a hand around the back of Zuko’s neck and kissed him again. “Remember that I still have to take you out on a date. And,” he grimaced apologetically, ”I have to introduce you to my sister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …although for some reason no one makes out on most of my first dates… Am I doing something wrong? ;-)
> 
> More Jet and more Toph/Suki coming up next!


	9. Meet the Family

“So Zuko,” Katara’s eyes were narrowed, and she bit down on her sandwich with unnecessary force. The time it took to chew and swallow constituted a long enough pause to seem ominous. “What are you doing with my brother?”

Sokka dropped his face into his palms. “Ka-taraaa,” he whined, “STOP. Why do you always have to humiliate me?”

Zuko nearly choked on his apple. “Uh…” he looked to Sokka for help. “I’m, um…”

“Having crazy hot butt sex,” Toph said. She was being fed bits of mango by Suki, who was perched cozily on her lap. “Whadya think, honey, is Zuko a bottom, or more of a switch?”

“TOPH!” Sokka yelped. “What the HELL is wrong with you? Oh my god,” he pressed his face into his hands. “My life is over. I can never bring a boyfriend to you people again. I’m doomed to loneliness and a life full of—“

“Oh shut up,” Katara said. “Now we know he’s your boyfriend, you’ve answered my question.”

“I never said—I mean, he’s not—unless he wants to be—“ Sokka stared blindly around, finally fixing his sight on Zuko with horror. “I’m so sorry. This was a terrible idea.”

“I’m ok with boyfriend,” Zuko said quietly.

The entire table went silent.

“They’re definitely doing the nasty,” Toph said in a perfectly audible whisper to Suki. “My money is on all the ass-play. All of it.” Suki dissolved into tinkling giggles, burying her face in Toph’s neck to stifle them.

“Well I think that’s great!” Aang said cheerfully. Everyone turned to stare at him. “Not the… uh, the ass… I mean. The boyfriends!” he beamed at them all. “I think it’s awesome that Sokka has a boyfriend. And that Zuko isn’t scary.”

If Zuko hadn’t been blushing before, he was now. “Thanks,” he muttered.

“Aang,” Katara said. “It isn’t polite to call our guest scary.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “but the point is that Zuko _isn’t_  scary! Cause he isn’t!”

“Never again,” Sokka moaned.

“Are you coming home to meet Gran Gran?” Katara asked, turning to Zuko.

“Only if I’m invited?” he managed. _Oh god, what if Sokka wanted to meet his dad? What the hell would he say to that?_

“Of course you are,” she said, returning to her lunch. “Everyone is coming over after school today.”

After that, everyone blessedly returned to their lunches. Toph and Suki caused a bit of a stir when they disappeared together halfway through the lunch period—“Not the supply closet again!” Sokka called after them, “I can never look at that broom the same way again!”—and Zuko felt he curried some favor with Katara when he failed to judge her about her distaste for pees.

He happened to look up from the middle of a conversation with Aang about skydiving (the kid was surprisingly knowledgeable) to find Sokka watching him with a fond expression on his face. Sokka started when their eyes met and had the grace to look embarrassed, but Zuko was smiling to himself as he returned his attention to Aang.

“And this one time my parachute didn’t open right, and I thought I was a _goner_!” Aang said, not sounding upset in the slightest. “It was AWESOME!”

“That’s great, Aang,” Katara said absently. “Do you like fish, Zuko?” She looked up from her phone to see him nod. “Ok, good.” She tapped something out, snapped the phone shut, and stood to begin turfing Aang out of his seat. “We have to go to class, Aang,” she said. Aang took one last swig of his juice and jumped to his feet.

“See you later!” he said cheerfully. He and Katara departed.

“That didn’t go too badly,” Zuko said.

“Except the ass stuff,” Sokka said. He met Zuko’s eye, then looked away again. The tips of his ears were turning red.

“Yeah, it might be a little early for that,” Zuko smirked. Then, just to see Sokka’s reaction, “Although I’m not opposed to it.”

To his credit, Sokka didn’t freak out. On the contrary, he turned to Zuko with astonishing boldness. “Oh really?” he cocked an eyebrow at him. Then, as though understanding what he had implied, his expression became bashful.

“Really,” Zuko elbowed him, chuckling.

Sokka ducked his head in for a quick kiss. “Good to know,” he mumbled.

***

“He looks underfed,” were the first words out of Gran Gran’s mouth. She surveyed Zuko through the screen door before unlatching it to let them all troupe inside. “You’re staying for dinner, young man,” she called, already halfway into the kitchen.

Sokka shrugged at Zuko. “That’s how she is with everyone,” he said.

“I heard that! Come wash dishes, Sokka!”

Sokka groaned.

Zuko followed the others through the door and directly into the living room. The tidy little house had a wide front porch, and the big windows to either side of the door looked out onto it and the street beyond. On one side of the far wall a hallway led back to the stairs and Gran Gran’s room (Katara had pointed out features of the house as they entered), and to the right an open archway connected the living room to the kitchen.

Katara, Aang, and Toph immediately made themselves comfortable on the rug and sagging couch, spreading out piles of homework and textbooks. Zuko lingered awkwardly for a moment before Aang noticed and made room on the couch.

By the time Sokka and Gran Gran reappeared, both wearing flowery aprons, Zuko had made his way through his calculus homework and was helping Katara with her algebra. It turned out that she wasn’t too bad at math… Aang, on the other hand, was excellent at history but flummoxed by his geometry homework. It took both Zuko and Toph to talk him through the first of his proofs.

“Dinner is ready,” Sokka said proudly. He seemed completely at ease in the apron, and Zuko was impressed in spite of himself. His own cooking skills were fairly negligible. “Baked salmon with thyme, roasted fingerling potatoes, Gran Gran’s homemade bread, and my signature tomato salad.”

“Whoa,” Aang said appreciatively. He elbowed Zuko in the ribs, “They pulled out all the stops for you!”

“Thank you for dinner,” Zuko said formally to Gran Gran, who smiled up at him.

“This one is polite, Sokka,” she said. “You should be more like him.” Then she turned and marched back into the kitchen, obviously expecting to be followed. The little group made their way through the kitchen and into the dining room. The table was set low to the ground and surrounded by cushions. The rest of the teenagers settled themselves down onto them, chattering and pushing each other out of the way to serve themselves. Zuko noticed that Sokka respectfully filled a plate for his grandmother before serving anyone else, and blinked when he handed Zuko the second plate of food.

“No, this is yours,” he said automatically. “It’s ok.”

Sokka glared at him, “You’re my guest, Zuko. Get used to it.”  
Gran Gran chortled appreciatively, “Don’t try to stand up to my grandson when it comes to hospitality, young man. You’ll find that you won’t often win.”

Zuko smiled. _Fine then_. He rested a hand lightly on Sokka’s lower back. They were sitting close enough that no one else noticed. “I’m sure I’ll find something to win you over with later,” he whispered in his ear.

Sokka stared at him with wide eyes. Zuko snorted at the expression on his face before turning blithely to Gran Gran and striking up a conversation about the bread. He had learned from living with Iroh that most people enjoyed talking about anything they cared about enough to make from scratch. Uncle could wax lyrical about first flush Darjeeling black, and it turned out that Gran Gran could lecture extensively about the creation of well textured crust.

Dinner passed amicably, and Zuko felt pretty good about the whole thing by the time dessert was over (peach raspberry pie that Sokka had proudly made himself).

Sokka walked him out onto the front porch. Neither of them noticed the dark figure skulking in the bushes by the stairs.

“If everyone wasn’t over,” Sokka said, winding his arms around Zuko for a long kiss, “I would have made out with you at the table.”

“In front of your grandmother?” Zuko laughed. “That’s gross.”

“Mmm,” Sokka agreed. “For being so good with her, though. She’s the most important person in my life besides my dad and Katara. She raised us.”

“What, did you expect me to be an ass to her?” Zuko asked, raising his eyebrows. “I liked her.”

“Good. She liked you, too,” Sokka sighed into Zuko’s mouth. “Would blowing you on the front porch be a really bad idea?” he whined.

Zuko smiled, imagining that for a moment. Then he shrugged, “Yeah, probably.”

“Damn,” Sokka laughed.

“Seriously, though,” Zuko dropped his voice, lowering his eyes almost shyly, “I want to take this slow if that’s ok. I almost lost it yesterday at lunch, but… I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Yeah,” Sokka nodded, drawing him closer for a hug. “Yeah, that’s cool.”

“Soookkkaaaa!!!” Katara yelled from inside the house. “You left the toilet seat up, AGAIN!”

Sokka winced, “That’s a buzz kill. I gotta go.” He kissed Zuko one more time, lingering tantalizingly. His hands splayed across Zuko’s back, and his tongue traced his lower lip, making him dizzy. “Ok.” He finally broke away. “Now I really have to go.”

“Good night,” Zuko said. He stood there, grinning stupidly at the door even after it had closed behind Sokka. Then he shook himself and made his way towards his car.

It was the smell of smoke that alerted him. _Fuck_  he swore to himself.

“When I told you to get out, I meant it a little more generally,” Zuko said cuttingly. “As in, get out of my life.”

Jet disregarded this. His face was contorted with rage as he pointed a shaking finger at Sokka’s house, “You’re fucking HIM?!”

“It’s none of your business,” Zuko said, opening his car door. He hoped no one inside the house was looking out. He hadn’t told Sokka about Jet, and he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to. Jet crossed to the other side of the car and climbed in. Zuko sighed and got in after him. At least if Jet was in the car he couldn’t attack him, and the chances of him disturbing Sokka’s family were greatly reduced.

“Do you want me to take you home?” he said at last.

“Fine,” Jet rolled down the window and stuck the hand holding the cigarette through it. Zuko was oddly touched by the small consideration. It was more than Jet usually afforded anyone.

“The other night,” Jet began, but Zuko waved him away.

“I don’t want to hear it. I shouldn’t have hit you. But you…”

“I provoked you,” Jet admitted. He sounded saner than Zuko could remember him being in a long time.

“Yeah, you did,” Zuko concentrated on the flow of traffic, on the dark road ahead of him.

“I want you,” Jet said suddenly. Zuko nearly wrecked the car. He jerked back into his lane quickly, waving at the pissed off guy trying to pass him.

“No,” he said, almost before he’d processed Jet’s words. “No, you want a ‘me’ that doesn’t exist anymore. I’m not the same person.”

“You still want me,” Jet countered.

“No, I don’t,” Zuko said. His hands were clenched tight on the wheel, his knuckles standing out white and ghostly in the dark car.

“If I hadn’t said that shit about your face, would you have stopped me the other night? If I tried to blow you right now, would you do a fucking thing about it?” Jet snapped.

“What is it with you and my dick?” Zuko grumbled. He knew he was avoiding the question.

“Are you complaining?” Jet laughed softly.

“Yes.”

“Bullshit,” Jet said baldly. “It knows what you want better than you do.”

Zuko pulled the car to a stop. They were two blocks from the Duke’s house, where he knew Jet was staying. He turned to face Jet, frowning at him. “There’s a difference between what turns me on and what’s good for me. There’s a difference between what _I_  want and what my body wants. You can’t just take me, Jet. I’m not an object you can just steal.”

Jet’s eyes were narrowed. “So what does that mean? You’re too good for me now?”

Zuko thumped his forehead into the steering wheel. He was so tired, and Jet just didn’t get it. He went still, trying to breath. His whole car smelled like smoke and sandalwood musk. Like Jet. But instead of making him horny, it was giving him a headache.

Jet’s hand descended on his shoulder, smoothing down his back. His other hand started to reach for his pants. He jerked away.

“Go home, Jet.”

And, miraculously, he left.

Zuko had a sinking feeling, though, as he watched him walk away. Jet didn’t give up that easily, and Zuko hadn’t been harsh enough with him. Jet needed things spelled out, needed hard truths spoken without sugarcoating, or he would never stop. And god, if Zuko was ever going to fix his own shit, he needed Jet to stop.

He remembered their first time together as he pulled away and turned for home. It had been dark in the back of the abandoned house where Jet’s crew hung out, and everyone else had been sleeping. Jet had crept over to where Zuko lay apart from the others. He could still remember his initial confusion, how the manic glint in Jet’s eyes had both scared and thrilled him. They way that Jet had reached into his shorts without asking first, and how Zuko hadn’t said no, but hadn’t said ‘yes’ either. And after that, for all intents and purposes, Zuko had been his. It had never been an agreement, or a fair and equal trade.

And wasn’t that the problem with Jet? He thought that if he could get a rise out of him, if he could literally get him to physically respond, that meant that he had him. He’d never been able to hear no, to understand that just because he wanted something didn’t mean he could have it. That just because he thought he owned something didn’t mean he had possession of it forever. _I’m not a possession_  Zuko repeated to himself. _I get to choose_. He pulled up behind the teashop and grabbed his backpack from the back seat. He’d driven the rest of the way home with all the windows open, and most of the smoke smell had dissipated.

As he walked up to the apartment he tried to remember the evening before Jet had shown up. Just thinking about Sokka made the tightness in his chest ease. Sokka had been so happy to introduce him to his family, so pleased that Zuko liked his friends. _Even Toph_  he snorted to himself. Maybe, if he got insanely lucky, this was actually going to work out for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko falling in love, you guys. So many feelings. I am so hopelessly into Sukka. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Plus some Toph/Suki next up to lighten the mood a little


	10. Intermission No. 2: What Happened in the Supply Closet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cause it's important to have some non-angst in there, too ;-)

Suki was pretty sure that they were going to be caught. There was no way they wouldn’t be. Someone was going to wander by and hear them, and they were well and truly fucked. However, Suki’s capacity to give a shit about any of that was greatly reduced by what Toph was currently doing with her mouth.  

“Shhh!” Toph hissed up from the vicinity of her navel.

“Mmmm… sorry!” Suki whimpered. “I’m t-trying. Aahhh!” She smacked Toph playfully on the top of the head, “Only consensual biting!”

“Fine,” Toph huffed. She had Suki pressed up against the wall of the tiny supply closet, the neck of her cheer uniform (they had a game that night) yanked down to bare one breast, the hem riding up so that Toph could press kisses down her abdomen. One of Toph’s hands was on her breast, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger. Her other hand was rapidly gliding up the inside of Suki’s thigh.

“Should we set a time record?” Toph smirked, “I thought we did pretty well under the stairwell, until Sokka showed up.”

“Dumbass,” Suki breathed, but the word had no bite in it. She couldn’t really concentrate on the memory of Sokka’s horrified face while Toph’s fingers were sliding along the waistband of her underwear. “He had to walk in right when I squirted.”

“Bet he’d never seen that before,” Toph laughed. She hooked her fingers over the lace and tugged, the other hand pushing Suki’s hips more firmly into the cinder block wall so that she could slide the panties down and over her feet.

“No, he definitely hadn’t,” she agreed. “He, nngh…” she was distracted by Toph’s hand spreading her legs, reaching around the back of her thigh to drape it over her shoulder for better access.

“Not actually as good with his boomerang as he always says?” Toph said.

“Ugh, he, uh,” Suki tried to form the words, but they were slow in coming. “Fingers, um… boys are never, aahhh, good with their fingers. Or tongues,” she quavered as Toph used her fingers to spread Suki’s lips and stripe one hot lick up her center. “Oh shit,” she threaded her fingers into Toph’s hair.

Toph made a contented noise against Suki’s clit, her tongue swirling around it rhythmically.

“I promise,” Suki gasped, “that the next one is one me.”

“Don’t worry about babe,” Toph pulled back to beam up at her. “I like this just as much as you do.”

*I just hit the jackpot* Suki thought incredulously. Then Toph’s hand was coasting along her leg to cup her ass, and she lost her train of thought. Two callused fingers began to rub lightly at her entrance, and she bucked forward, trying to stifle a moan. One slipped inside, followed by another, then another, and Toph began to thrust, picking up speed to match her tongue.

“Fuck,” Suki groaned. “Harder, please, oh god.” She bit her own lip. Toph’s tongue never seemed to get tired, and the way it was spiraling now, the hot wetness, the way that she was moaning obscenely like Suki was the best thing she’d ever tasted… Suki began to move her own hips, unsteadily at first, but then harder, fucking herself onto Toph’s fingers. They only had a few more minutes until they had to get to class, and she wanted to get there, wanted to come with Toph’s fingers inside her and her name on her lips…

Toph’s thumb circled her ass, rubbing between her cheeks. She relaxed almost instinctively, and suddenly she was so full and it was *so good*. She could feel the pressure building deep in the pit of her stomach, feel everything beginning to contract and narrow down to one tiny point, to right where Toph was wringing pleasure out of her…

She exploded, her entire body jerking wildly onto Toph’s fingers. “Fuck!” she screamed, not caring who heard, not caring that she was SO going to get suspended for this. She went limp against the wall, breathing hard. Toph carefully pulled her hand free, shaking it out to relieve the tension.

“So,” she drew Suki’s head down to her level, licking her lower lip seductively, “how was it?”

“Mmm,” Suki kissed her, her own hands travelling to cup Toph’s ass through her skirt. “So good.” She laughed and licked at Toph’s ear, making her whine.

“Yeah, I know where the bleach i—“ the door was wrenched open, and Sokka’s head appeared, looking back over his shoulder at whoever he was speaking to. Then he turned and his eyes went wide. “WHAT THE FUCK YOU GUYS?!” he yelped. “Not again!”

Suki pulled Toph closer. She could see, she supposed, how bad this must look. She also realized in that moment, that there was broom handle poking her in the ass. Yeah, it must look even worse than she’d thought. Her hands were still squeezing Toph’s ass, Toph’s hair was sticking up in every direction, and her panties were dangling from the metal shelving over their heads. Not to mention that her breasts were hanging out of her shirt. Toph made her best approximation of eye contact with Sokka and licked her three middle fingers suggestively, sucking each one into her mouth.

Sokka closed his eyes in dismay. “I can’t look at this supply closet the same way ever again. I can’t look at *brooms* the same way ever again! Is nothing sacred to you people?! What were you even doing with it?” he paused, recoiling from his own thoughts, “Never mind, I *do not* want to know.” He glared at each of them, very obviously trying to keep his eyes on their faces. “STOP DOING THIS TO ME.”

“Stop walking in on us, Snoozles,” Toph said. “I know I’m blind, but are you the deaf one? Cause Suki’s orgasm was loud enough to hear Mongolia. If you go into the guy’s bathroom and everyone’s jerking off, you know why.” She smirked up at Suki, who looked a little abashed.

“I don’t want to hear about Suki’s *orgasm*,” he hissed. “Ugh. I can’t believe I’m still standing here having this conversation.” He reached around Toph to grab the bleach and beat a hasty retreat, slamming the door behind him.

“So,” Suki raised an eyebrow at Toph. “You’re into my ass, huh?”

“Oh, you are too,” Toph grumbled. “It’s a good one, what can I say?”

Suki laughed, drawing Toph close for another kiss. “I think that next time we should do it under the bleachers during soccer practice.”

Toph laughed back, delighted, “That’s the best plan ever.”

 

 


	11. 2 Months Later… The Saga of the Bleachers Continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH NO. This is the chapter. Feels. Oh man. Feels. This one is for you, J. You know who you are ;-) Hope you still feel proud of Zuko afterwards.

“You came to watch me practice?” Sokka said delightedly. “Aw, you’re such a good boyfriend.”

“I try,” Zuko smirked. He leaned forward hopefully, and Sokka obliged with a soft kiss. Zuko felt sure he would never get used to the casualness with which Sokka treated such small gestures. At his old school, two guys kissing (in front of a sports team, no less) would have set off a small-scale riot— _And did_  he thought bitterly. “Uncle is working in the shop all afternoon, so here I am.”

Sokka smiled at him, but his face fell with the whistle’s sound. “I gotta run,” he said apologetically. “Literally.” The team was starting laps.

“Go,” Zuko nodded at the field. “The view is better from behind anyway.” He winked at Sokka, who laughed.

“God, Zuko, do you have a sense of humor?” Sokka began to jog backward toward his team.

“Maybe,” Zuko called after him. “You should find out.”

Sokka threw his head back to give one of those exhilarated laughs that Zuko liked so much.*Loved so much?* Then he turned away and was absorbed into the group already halfway around the field.

Zuko tried to work on his AP Chem problem set, but was incessantly distracted by Sokka’s increasing sweatiness. He was wondering idly how long it would take before Sokka removed his jersey again, but it was too soon to tell.

To distract himself from that arresting notion, he yanked out his assigned English reading and spent 40 highly unproductive minutes reading and rereading the same passage of “Madame Bovary”. Finally, the whistle blew for the end of practice and he sat up. He shoved his homework back into his backpack just in time to see Sokka running towards him.

Sokka stripped off his jersey as he reached him. Sokka’s hair was wet and dripping from the water he’d poured over his head.

“Finally,” Zuko grinned. “I’ve been waiting all practice for that.”

“Oh really?” Sokka said. He ran a hand down his shining chest, leering suggestively. “Enjoying the goods?”

“Definitely.” Zuko jumped off of the bench, grabbed his backpack, and held a hand out to Sokka, “C’mere.”

He ducked around and under the bleachers, dragging Sokka along behind him.

Once they were suitably concealed in the shade of the stands, he pushed Sokka against a metal strut and dropped his head to his neck, licking at a rivulet of water that had trickled from the ends of his hair. Sokka sighed happily and relaxed against the beam. He was still holding his water bottle in his hands as he flung them around Zuko’s neck and yanked him up for a proper kiss. His tongue slid into Sokka’s mouth greedily, prying his lips apart. His hands glided all over Sokka’s bare chest, first his shoulders, then his back, then roaming around to the front to pinch lightly at a nipple.

“Shit,” Sokka tore himself away. “We’re in public. Totally in public. Again.”

“Oh, sorry,” Zuko said, not really meaning it.

“Mmm, don’t be sorry. We should make out under the bleachers more often,” Sokka said, dropping the water bottle to the ground so that he could lace his fingers into Zuko’s hair.

“Fuck,” Zuko breathed, bending his head to kiss the inside of Sokka’s arm. Usually he didn’t swear much, but this, this was a _fuck_  kind of situation.

“Say that again,” Sokka whispered, his pupils blown wide.

Zuko had to take a moment to reassess. Dirty talk turned Sokka on?

“Fuck,” he whispered again, angling his lips in towards Sokka’s. “Fuck. Fu—“ his last word was swallowed by Sokka’s mouth crashing down on his. Suddenly their positions were reversed, Zuko pushed up against the underside of the bleachers, and Sokka’s hands were doing their best to touch every inch of him. His mouth was hot and wet and Zuko wanted him so viscerally in that moment that he didn’t really know how to handle it. He couldn’t handle anything past gasping and moaning into his mouth to try and spur him on. Two months of this barely concealed need, and he was ready to explode. Both literally and metaphorically.

Sokka’s leg slipped in between his and he bucked forward involuntarily, breaking his kiss with Sokka to stare up at him in incredulity.

“Sorry,” Sokka whispered. “Too much?”

Zuko rotated his hips slightly to show just how _much_  Sokka was dealing with, and he was satisfied at the way Sokka’s breath hitched.

Just as he was about to lean back in to recapture Sokka’s lips, however, Sokka jerked upright.

“Fuck,” he said, and this time it was definitely meant as a curse, not a tease. “I have to get home. I’m dog-sitting for Aang, and if Appa doesn’t get fed right on time…” he shuddered. “I’ll never get my favorite sneakers back.”

He began to fumble for his shirt, pulling it hurriedly over his head.

“You’re leaving me for a _dog_?!” Zuko said.

“I know, I know! But I promised Aang!” Sokka whined. “But,” he grabbed the front of Zuko’s shirt and hauled him up against his chest, “can we do this again soon?” His eyes held a promise that made Zuko’s knees go weak.

“Yes,” Zuko said, hoping that he was correctly interpreting the heat in Sokka’s gaze. “God yes.”

“Good.” Sokka let go of him and scooped his bag up. “See you later!” he yelled.

Zuko closed his eyes and slumped back against the bleachers. At least maybe now he could finally add a good memory of this spot to his repertoire…

“Need help with that?”

_Or maybe not._

Resignedly, Zuko turned to face Jet. They hadn’t spoken since that day outside of Sokka’s house, but he knew Jet hadn’t forgotten. Everywhere he went with Sokka he could feel Jet’s eyes on them, waiting. “What now?” he sighed. “Please don’t try to seduce me again.” He knew ‘why now’, though. Jet must have been watching him and Sokka under the bleachers…that was exactly the sort of situation that would blow Jet’s possessive streak a mile wide. It was bad timing though: he was already feeling pent up and frustrated from Sokka’s quick departure; adding Jet to the mix was surely a terrible idea.

“But that’s exactly what I wanted to do,” Jet said slyly. He moved forward, forcing Zuko to back up until he hit the metal support pole. For once he wasn’t smoking, and both hands reached out to grab Zuko by the hips. Zuko’s erection, which had been rapidly deflating, sprang to life. _You goddamn traitor_  he thought murderously. _Why are_ **you** _still into him?! He’s an asshole!_

“I can’t,” Zuko said. “Stop doing this. It won’t work.” But he was successfully confused now, and his cock was contradicting him…he didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that Sokka was still flashing through his mind, and no matter what his dick wanted, he just wished Jet would go away. But he also wanted to get out of here with his hide intact, and he had firsthand experience with Jet’s reaction to outright rejection. So he responded the way he always had with Jet; by shutting down and hoping he would get bored. He went immobile, hands clenching the metal bars behind him, eyes staring impassively ahead.

“Oh, is that how it is?” Jet jeered. “Gonna ignore me? Give me the silent treatment like we’re 5?” He retreated at last and began to pace in front of Zuko, who still didn’t move. He was already breathing a little easier, though. Without Jet in his space he was finally starting to think clearly. Eventually Jet would burn himself out and leave. He was counting on that.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Jet yelled suddenly. “It wasn’t MY FAULT.” Zuko’s eyes snapped towards him.

“That didn’t make our relationship ok,” Zuko said. He couldn’t help himself, but he immediately regretted the words.

“What? Now I’m _abusive_?!” Jet stalked back to him, clearly incensed. “It’s your stupid dad who’s abusive. He’s the one who grabbed the tongs.”

“That didn’t make us ok,” Zuko repeated. He had to grip the bar even harder to prevent himself from trembling. Why did Jet always have to go for the open wound?

“I didn’t call you a fag at school! I didn’t tell that kid to hit you!” Jet screamed into his face. He looked honestly disturbed in the moment, spittle flying from his mouth, eyes burning with fury.

“And I don’t blame you for that,” Zuko said.

“Then why don’t you want me?!” Jet screamed.

“I just don’t,” Zuko said honestly. “Not any more. We aren’t good for each other.” He remembered saying the same words before, a lifetime ago in Iroh’s kitchen. The words were even truer now. Now he had Sokka.

“I’m good for you,” Jet said, his voice cracking. “I’m good to you.” He dropped suddenly to his knees, his hands too fast for Zuko. He unbuttoned Zuko’s fly, trying desperately to rip open his zipper.

“Stop it, Jet!” Zuko said. He felt appalled. “That isn’t what this is about. You can’t fix it like that. It can’t be fixed.” Jet’s hands were in his pants, his hot breath panting against his thigh, and Zuko sunk his hands into his hair, trying to wrench his head away, when…

_Thunk._

They both froze. Something very heavy had fallen to the gravel near them. With a sense of dawning horror, Zuko turned. He knew how this must look, this little vignette of teenage depravity. One boy on his knees in front of the other, fingers twined passionately into thick dark hair. Two flushed faces, caught with guilt in their eyes.

And there was Sokka, his mouth gaping open, his soccer bag spilling onto the gravel under the bleachers. “I forgot my…”

Zuko’s eyes followed his hand to the water bottle lying on its side under the bleachers. He stared at it for a second, nothing computing correctly in his head.

“Uh,” Sokka took a dazed step forward, then reeled back as though the full weight of the scene was just descending upon him.

“No,” Zuko shook his head frantically, pulling his hands away from Jet like he’d been burned again. “No, Sokka—“

Sokka grabbed the bag off of the ground and ran. Ran away from Zuko, who tripped a little over his pants as he pulled them up. He tried to button and run at the same time, but Jet was behind him, grabbing him by the arm. He swung a solid forearm across his chest to pull him back against him.

This time Zuko fought him, but he saw Sokka glance back and knew again how this must look… like he was being cradled by Jet. Like Jet was _comforting_  him. And he knew that was what Jet wanted, that Jet knew him well enough to think he still wouldn’t fight him.

Suddenly the dam of anger in his chest broke open. He saw Jet’s eyes expand as he twisted in his arms and crashed a fist into his face for a second time. Before it had been about saving himself, about getting Jet away before he cracked them both open, but now… now it was about Sokka, and the wounded disbelief in his eyes, and the hurt in Zuko’s chest when he realized that he might not be forgiven for this. He forced Jet onto the ground and kicked him, only vaguely seeing that Jet was smiling, was _laughing_.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Zuko spat at him. “Why?” he scrubbed a hand over his face and felt tears there. He dashed them away angrily. “WHY DO YOU RUIN EVERYTHING?” He spun away and ran as fast as he could towards the student parking lot. The Mustang was peeling out of the lot, and he sprinted towards it, trying to get in front of it, to stop Sokka before he was gone, maybe forever.

“Stop, please,” he gasped, but Sokka had seen him and veered dangerously towards the edge of the driveway to avoid him. His window was rolled down and as he sped past him, Zuko saw the hurt and betrayal and anger distorting his features.

The car whipped out of the driveway, screeched down the street, and was gone from view.

 

 


	12. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zuko talks more at once than he's ever talked in his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me here; we're about to get to the happy ending.

“Sokka? Sokka, please!” Zuko banged on the front door, just as he had been for the past half hour. No one had come out (leading him to believe that Katara and Gran Gran weren’t home) but Sokka’s beat up old Mustang was in the driveway. “Let me explain!” he yelled desperately, hammering away with his fists. Sokka couldn’t just ignore him forever. He turned from the door, jumped over the porch railing, and ran around to the back of the house. Kicking himself for fulfilling every stupid high school stereotype in the book, he bent down and grabbed a small rock from the ground, hefting it once in his hand before aiming for Sokka’s window. It bounced off the trim, but the second hit its mark and… went through.

“Oh shit,” Zuko breathed.

“Pro tip, Zuko,” Sokka’s angry voice floated out through the window. “I don’t forgive cheating bastards if they _hit me in the head with rocks_.” The pebble came soaring back out the open window, which was slammed shut with such ferocity that Zuko was surprised it didn’t break.

“SOKKA!” Zuko screamed. “I just need to talk to you!”

But no matter how much he yelled or how many rocks he threw or how often he threatened to spend the night outside his window, he didn’t see Sokka again. He hadn’t been kidding about sleeping outside, though; it wasn’t until Gran Gran came out and kindly told him that Sokka was threatening to call the police that he could be persuaded to leave.

“He’ll come around,” she said as she walked him to his car. “My grandson is just a bit stubborn. No reason to think he won’t listen to sense eventually.”

Zuko nodded dully and climbed into his car. He sat for a few minutes. He could sense Gran Gran waiting outside, looking in at him anxiously. As soon as he couldn’t stand it any more he put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, setting his sights for downtown and home.

***

He barely made it home before he started crying. Fortunately, Uncle was in the shop and the apartment was silent. He collapsed onto the couch, fumbling his phone out of his pocket. He called Sokka the moment his eyes were clear enough to see the keys.

The call went to voicemail.

“Sokka? Sokka please pick up. It wasn’t what it looked like, I promise. I can explain, just… please.”

He called until Sokka’s voicemail told him his storage was full, and even then he kept trying, just to see if Sokka might finally pick up. When it became clear he wasn’t going to, Zuko threw the phone to the ground nearby, stuck between hoping the damn thing would break, and wanting it nearby in case Sokka called back.

He had fucked up. Really, truly, and royally. And he couldn’t even talk this one out with Iroh… how would that conversation go? _Uncle, my boyfriend and I were making out under the bleachers and then my ex came and tried to blow me—_ again _—and my boyfriend saw and assumed it was consensual fellatio. Got any advice?_  Zuko snorted and got up from the couch. It was the least he could do to keep the details of his torrid sex life from Iroh. He scooped the phone up from the floor and stumbled into his bedroom. Keeping the phone in his hand, he climbed into bed to wait.

***

He woke up the next morning with no calls or texts from Sokka. His only message, he was surprised to see, came from Katara: _i dont know what happened, but sokka doesnt want to see you. sorry :-/_  He groaned and flopped back onto the bed. He briefly considered getting up to go to school, but one text to Uncle— _not feeling well, will you call me in?_ —solved that problem. The thought of seeing Jet again made him feel physically ill. There was no way he would ever consent to be alone with him again. Maybe he should consider a restraining order.

He rolled over in bed to stare at the opposite wall. Thinking back now, he fully appreciated something he never had before: he had always rolled over for Jet. He was the stronger personality, the leader of his group. They had fucked when Jet wanted to fuck, hung out when Jet felt like it, done the stupid dangerous shit _Jet_  had wanted to do. No wonder Zuko was all messed up over their relationship; it had been pretty shitty in a lot of ways. He had to get over it. Even without Sokka as a motivator, he had to do it for himself.

He sat up and texted Katara back. _Please, convince Sokka to meet me at the teashop after school. Whatever it takes. Free bubble tea for life._

His phone didn’t chime again for hours, but when it did he nearly jumped out of his skin in his eagerness to check it. It was only one word: “ _Ok_.”

***

Hoping against hope that Katara’s “Ok” meant she had convinced Sokka, Zuko waited anxiously in the Jasmine Dragon. The shop was mercifully empty this afternoon, but even without the prospect of an audience Zuko was a bundle of nerves.

The ringing of the bell over the door startled him so badly that he skipped out of his seat, nearly knocking it over. It was Sokka, walking stiffly toward the table he had chosen near the back. He pulled off his sweatshirt, and even though he knew he had no right, Zuko felt his mouth go dry as Sokka’s arms flexed. Sokka wasn’t looking at him, and Zuko saw that his own eyes looked red and irritated.

He dropped heavily into the seat across from Zuko. “What?” he said stonily. “I’m only here because I was promised free tea.” He kicked his legs out under the table and glared around at anything but Zuko.

“I…” Zuko hesitated, looking up at Sokka’s stormy face. “Do you…wanna yell at me first? I deserve it.”

“Do I want to yell at you?” Sokka grated, eyes finally flashing up to meet Zuko’s. He recoiled instinctively. Sokka’s eyes were colder than Zuko could have ever imagined they were capable of being. “We weren’t even together for *2 months* before you had your dick in someone else’s mouth. If we weren’t moving fast enough you should have just _said so_.”

“That’s not what it was about,” Zuko said quietly.

“Fine. You wanted me to come here and listen? Fucking. Explain.”

Zuko took a deep breath. He felt so nauseous. “It has to do with… um…” his hand drifted hesitantly up to his scar.

“Your scar?”

Zuko snuck a glance up at Sokka’s face. His icy rage had melted away for a moment and Zuko saw that he had genuinely shocked him.

“Yes,” he said. “I told you I trust you. And I do. And I’m still not ready, but I don’t know if I ever will be. So you’re the first person I’ve told about this. Not even my shrink.” Zuko knew he was stalling, so he took a deep breath and focused on the tabletop. “I used to go out with Jet when we were both at Agni Academy. We were part of the same group, and it just sort of happened… the details don’t matter,” Zuko said. “It was really intense. Like nothing I’d ever felt with any girl before. I had a girlfriend at the time, Mai, and she ended up breaking up with me, cause knew something was wrong. So then it was just me and Jet, and we got stupid. Oh god,” Zuko pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Stars popped up behind his eyelids as he remembered flashing lights and Jet’s hand skimming up his thigh in the darkness, “ _I_  was so stupid. I should have known better—he was always reckless. But I didn’t care. One night he broke into my house, and we snuck into my father’s private pool. And, uh, we were… you know,” he stuttered, strangely embarrassed. “Well, Jet was, I mean, on top of me. And we…”

“I get the idea,” Sokka said hoarsely.

“Um, yeah,” Zuko flushed. “My father came in. And, I don’t know, we already didn’t get along. He was, well, he hit me. A lot. Especially after my mom died. And when he saw us he just went crazy.” Zuko lifted his head from his hands, staring across the shop instead. He wasn’t really seeing Iroh’s tea-themed art, however. He was remembering the uncontained fury disfiguring Ozai’s face, the way he had grabbed a handful of Zuko’s hair to haul him out of the water, how he had dragged him across the tile floor to the sauna… “He burned me. There was more than that, but… it was the burn that was the worst.”

“God,” Sokka croaked, and Zuko finally saw him again. His face had gone grey and clammy-looking, the picture of empathetic horror.

“Yeah. That wasn’t the end,” Zuko said. “He kicked me out. So after I got back from the hospital I packed up all my stuff and went to stay at Jet’s place. Except the next day at school…” Zuko shuddered. “This asshole knew somehow, and he started calling me all this shit, all these names,” Zuko remembered how terrified he’d been, how everything was still fresh and raw and painful from the altercation with his father, and how he’d been so scared that everyone would know and then finding out that they _did_  know—“I just snapped. He took a swing at me and I… I really beat the shit out of him, Sokka.” Zuko felt his stomach churning, and he needed so badly for Sokka to _understand_ , to know that he wasn’t a monster. “I didn’t really mean to, but I did. And Jet tried to pull him off me and we both got sent to the headmaster’s office. And we got expelled.”

He let out a long sigh. “I went to live with Iroh after that. I couldn’t even look at him. At Jet,” he clarified. “I’m not sure if I blamed him, or what. But suddenly everything about him was tainted, and I resented him, and I knew that we were wrong for each other and we always had been. He seemed to think that getting expelled was a joke, and that what I did to that kid was ok. But it wasn’t, Sokka,” Zuko stared at him, shaking his head. “I hurt him so badly.” A shaky breath in, while he tried to clear his head enough to pick up the thread of his story. Then, “Iroh let me take some time off from school to heal my scar, and Jet went to the public school. And you know some of the rest… But you have to understand,” Zuko leaned forward, catching Sokka’s eye, putting as much pleading into his voice as he could manage, “I wanted him to *stop*. I thought he wasn’t going to talk to me ever again, but then it was obvious how much I liked you, and he got jealous. I swear, once we started seeing each other, I never encouraged him. I never even _wanted_  to. I only wanted you. I only _want_  you. Under the bleachers—he was trying to manipulate me, and I was confused, and I’m no good at standing up to him. But for you…” Zuko trailed off. “For you I did. And now I can for me, too.”

Sokka’s eyes were so wide that the blue threatened to swallow up the rest of his face. It took a second for Zuko to see that they were full of tears, and that the odd tilt of his head was because he was trying not to let them spill in front of Zuko.

“I just, I care about you. Just you. I would never fuck Jet,” Zuko said desperately. “Do you believe me? Please believe me.”

Sokka nodded, just a quick jerk of his head. “I do,” he said.

Zuko slumped forward, reaching out without thought. His hand found Sokka’s and he was thrilled and relieved when Sokka interlaced their fingers. They both sat for a few minutes, just staring at their interlocked hands.

“Thank you,” Sokka said finally.

“For what?” Zuko asked, bewildered. He felt so drained, but at the same time every part of his body was more alive than he had been since this nightmare had started.

“For telling me,” Sokka said. “Listen,” he bent across the table, lowering his voice. “Is Iroh in the back?”

“Yeah…” Zuko said.

“Ok, good,” Sokka said. “Let’s go upstairs. Just in case other people come in.”

“Uh, sure, that’s a good idea,” Zuko said. He almost couldn’t believe Sokka had forgiven him. He couldn’t believe he’d told Sokka the whole story. He was still reeling from the retelling, from spilling out all of the horrible things that he had been trying to keep inside. He supposed that Dr. Jee would call this a “breakthrough”. Instead it felt like he’d been gutted. But looking at Sokka alleviated some of the pain. Feeling the way he squeezed his hand as they stood took away a little more of it.

And the way he laughed softly and leaned in to whisper in his ear? That made it all feel better. At least until he heard what he had said:

“I still expect free bubble tea from now on.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: porn!!! (see, lots of kinds of happy endings all at once ;-)


	13. Zuko's Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where things get, um, explicit. Look away if your virgin eyes will be violated!

They didn’t make it into the apartment before Sokka was kissing him. Zuko was just thinking about what he’d do when they entered: maybe he would put on a pot of tea and start a movie so that they could cuddle… but then Sokka’s hands were in his hair and his senses were full of that intoxicating smell of sweat and boy and fresh snow. They had been doing a lot of kissing in the last few months, but something about Sokka was different this time. There was a new sense of urgency in his kisses, a strange and exhilarating combination of slow, dragging lips and hot, desperate tongue. It was like Sokka was trying to brand him with each one.

“You have to open that door,” Sokka finally said, hands fisting in the back of Zuko’s shirt. “Or I will not make it inside.” The growl in his voice made Zuko’s stomach flip over.

He turned clumsily, Sokka still attached to him, and fumbled the key into the lock. They spilled through the door and into the hallway, Zuko landing on top of Sokka.

“I like it like this,” Sokka smirked up at him, taking his hips in either hand and arching up. Zuko’s breath caught and he fell forward, his hands flat on Sokka’s chest. Zuko wasn’t entirely sure where this newfound boldness had come from, but he had some idea… Except that he was scared of what it meant.  

“Are you sure?” he whispered. His voice cracked. “I need you to be sure… you aren’t just trying to get back at me or Jet?”

“Don’t say his name,” Sokka reared up, his lips scorching the column of Zuko’s throat.

Zuko took a deep, steadying breath, willing his eyes not to flutter closed. “Sokka…” he said warningly. “This shouldn’t be about that.”

“This is about you and me,” Sokka said, drawing back. His eyes were full of such determination that Zuko was taken aback. “Besides,” he ran his hands up and under Zuko’s shirt, “I’ve heard that make up sex is the best.”

Laughing, Zuko let Sokka sit up. Sokka palmed the backs of his thighs as he stood, hoisting him against his chest.

“You’re going to carry me?” Zuko said, cocking an eyebrow. “Soccer doesn’t call for a lot of upper body strength, does it?”

“Shut up,” Sokka kissed the grin from his mouth and turned, striding easily through the living room. Zuko chuckled into his neck… Sokka always needed to prove him wrong.

Zuko’s door was open, and Sokka shut it with a bang before depositing Zuko on the bed. He turned on the lamp next to the bed and sank down onto the mattress. Zuko glanced uneasily at the light, “Don’t you want that off?”

Sokka shrugged and leaned down to whisper, “I wanna be able to see you.”

Zuko knew he shouldn’t compare, shouldn’t ever put Sokka in the same category as Jet or Mai, but… neither of them had ever wanted to be with him except in the dark, and this was intimidating. Thrilling, but indicative of something Zuko was scared to put into words.

So instead he crawled back into Sokka’s lap, straddling his pelvis to try and _show_  him. He inclined his head as though to kiss Sokka on the lips, but held back at the last second. Sokka groaned, trying to reach him, but Zuko yanked on his ponytail to stop him. He kissed his cheek instead, lips skimming across his face. He moved down to his neck and across his collarbone before returning to his lips. Sokka kissed him hungrily, and his arms wrapped around his back to bring every part of him flush against his chest.

Then he pulled back, staring up at Zuko. One finger came up to brush, ever so lightly, across the bottom of his scar.

Zuko froze, his growing erection softening. He had to fight the urge to jump backward off the bed, away from Sokka.

“What are you doing?” Zuko whispered, feeling panic rising in his chest.

“Sshhh…” Sokka whispered into his damaged left ear, “trust me.”

And then he leaned in and gently kissed the edge of Zuko’s scar.

He felt a frisson ripple through his entire body. He closed his eyes in surrender, waiting. If Sokka could trust him, he could trust Sokka. He kept repeating it over and over in his head like a prayer.

A second later Sokka’s lips returned, trailing lightly across his ruined cheek. Then his tongue replaced them, tracing the bottom edge all the way up, until the tip of his tongue curved over the shell of Zuko’s ear. Then it disappeared.

Zuko held himself in check, working on breathing. No one had ever touched it before, _he_  barely even touched it if he could help it. And now, in this intimate setting, Sokka…

“Ok?” Sokka whispered. He opened his eyes. Sokka’s face was floating in front of his, and his eyes were full of concern.

Zuko kissed him. He knew he had caught Sokka off guard by the way he grabbed at the back of Zuko’s head to avoid toppling backward onto the pillows. Zuko had never felt anything like this before; his chest was on fire, but the heat wasn’t burning him. All he wanted was to wrap as much of his body around Sokka’s as he possibly could. Something had come undone in his chest, and he floated, unmoored, away from the pain and hurt and self-consciousness. Sokka was the only thing anchoring him to the bed, and his mind flashed through everything he loved about him: his goofy smile and his larger-than-life laugh; how he made Zuko feel normal and wanted; the way that he got along famously with Uncle; the fact that he made Zuko laugh for the first time in years. Zuko wasn’t sure how to turn all of that into a kiss, but he tried.

Sokka responded with enthusiasm. His arms crushed Zuko until the entire world was spinning, and abruptly everything was upside down. He was on his back, and Sokka was moving down his body, yanking his pants off without even bothering to get rid of his shoes. They went flying over Sokka’s shoulder, and dimly Zuko thought that one might have gotten tangled in his ceiling fan. But it was impossible to care about anything other than the blazing, fevered look in Sokka’s eyes as he loomed over him. His taut arms were full of that same tension that Zuko had felt so long ago behind the greenhouse. He had wanted to push Sokka then, and he sure as hell wanted to now.

He looked Sokka straight in the eye and grinned like a cat. “Fuck,” he whispered, his mouth teasing out the word with relish.

The tension snapped.

Zuko couldn’t contain his yell as Sokka shoved him down and, *oh god*, it felt like he had just swallowed his cock. Sokka, apparently, wasn’t one to half ass things. Zuko had to expend all of his energy into not fucking into Sokka’s mouth, but his hips jerked up involuntarily. He didn’t seem to mind, making a rumbling, groaning noise that sent shockwaves through Zuko. He writhed again, and it took both of Sokka’s hands stroking up his chest to calm him.

“Sokka,” he gasped,”nnngh, I can’t—you just—fuuuck…” Sokka gave a little noise of approval around Zuko’s cock. He pulled his head back so that Zuko could see the way his cheeks hollowed, the way that his dick looked sliding in and out of spit-slicked lips. Sokka’s eyes met his, and the desire burning in them was almost too much. Zuko clenched his eyes shut, his head thrown back against the sheets…

One last hot lick from base to tip, and Sokka’s mouth left his cock. He climbed up his body to kiss him instead, and the taste of himself on Sokka’s lips was bitter, and strange, and so incredibly _hot_. He moaned into Sokka’s mouth, trying not to grind too obviously against him. He was aching so badly that pretty soon he wouldn’t be good for anything more than a quick hand job, but he had other things in mind. He closed his eyes and tore his mouth away, marshaling his energy. It didn’t help that Sokka had taken the cessation of kissing to mean that he should start teasing at Zuko’s nipples.

What was it Sokka had said the first time they had kissed?

“Dead puppies,” he whispered against Sokka’s hair. Sokka’s lips stilled.

“Excuse me?” he said indignantly.

“I—uh…” Zuko blushed. His cock was straining against Sokka’s stomach and he swiveled his hips unconsciously, needing friction. “I’m gonna come if you don’t let me cool off. And god, Sokka, I want—“

Sokka rolled off of him dutifully, but with a small moan that indicated his feelings about the movement.

“Uh, me too, actually.” Zuko followed his gaze to Sokka’s cock, which lay hard and weeping against Sokka’s abs.

“Shit,” he breathed, and Sokka whimpered.

“Stop! You’re trying to kill me!”

They lay for a few seconds in the bed, trying to come down a little in the incredibly sex-charged atmosphere. Then Zuko rolled over onto his stomach to look Sokka in the eye.

“Remember what Toph said?”

“I am trying so hard not to think about Toph right now,” Sokka grumbled.

“Yeah, but… about the…” Zuko really couldn’t bring himself to say the words “butt sex” right now. “Like, about me on, uh, the bottom,” he said instead.

Now Sokka was paying attention. He sat up and stared at Zuko. His eyes suddenly looked very dark.

He nodded.

Zuko’s mouth was dry. “Do you… well, I have before and I, I liked it. A lot. Do you think you might want to try?” he wasn’t sure how much Sokka was up for. By all accounts this was his first time with a guy, and Zuko wasn’t interested in freaking him out. But the look he was giving him suggested that he wasn’t freaked out at all.

“Yeah?” he breathed. “You really want to?”

Zuko nodded. “And, um…” he blushed, ducking his head against Sokka’s bare chest. “Will you talk to me? I know you like that. If that’s ok.”

“You are trying to kill me. I knew it. Death by sexy boyfriend. I don’t know if that means I’m going to hell, or what, but,” he sighed. The sound came out a bit shaky, like he was starting to lose control again, “it will be so worth it.” He curled over onto Zuko, who was trying to get his nightstand draw open. “I got it,” he whispered into Zuko’s mouth. His long arm stretched up over Zuko’s, and he pulled out a condom and the small bottle Zuko had been searching for.

This time their kissing didn’t ramp up at all: it was everything at once; hot and slick and sloppy and *so incredibly good*. Zuko was happy for Sokka to take charge. It was almost unbearably sexy to watch him lube up his fingers and slide them inexorably lower. He wrapped hand around Zuko’s cock, stroking up and down a few times, before dipping down to palm his sac, to tease lower, until…

Zuko bowed up off the bed as Sokka’s finger slid into him gently. It still stung, but Zuko didn’t mind; he liked that this was dirty and visceral. He gradually inserted a second, kissing and biting at Zuko’s neck and collarbone to distract him.

“You look so good,” he said, his voice slurred. “So good like this… so hot. Oh god,” he babbled, “wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Do it,” Zuko said, clenching deliberately around Sokka’s fingers.

There were a few seconds while Zuko waited, unable to breathe, as Sokka fumbled with the condom. But then he was kneeling above Zuko, who watched, mesmerized, as he dripped lube over his cock and began to stroke. Sokka smirked down at him and licked his lips.

“Fucking tease,” Zuko hissed.

Sokka laughed, but his eyes were intent. Suddenly he reached down, wrapped his arms around Zuko, and pulled him up and into his lap so that they were facing each other. Zuko’s breath caught. This felt so much more intimate. “Like this?” Sokka whispered.

Zuko nodded dazedly, his eyes fluttering shut while Sokka spread his legs to position him. “Tell me you want me to fuck you, Zuko,” Sokka whispered. His eyes snapped open and he stared into Sokka’s, which were dark and hungry.

Zuko sunk down, taking Sokka in with a shout. Sokka’s hands clutched desperately at Zuko’s hips, trying to hold him still so he could acclimate, but Zuko didn’t care. He pitched up, canting his hips to find that angle, that spot he knew was… _there_. He let out a long groan as he found it. Then he was moving, bouncing up just so he could grind back down, his hands on Sokka’s shoulders, his nails biting into his skin.

Sokka was crying out beneath him, his head thrown back as he pumped in and out of Zuko, one hand squeezing his hip while the other snaked around to…

“Nnngh, Sokka,” Zuko gasped as Sokka’s hand began to work his cock. He was making a mess, but the precum leaking all over his chest seemed completely unimportant right then. What mattered was the feeling of stretching and filling, of too much and not enough, of Sokka moaning and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

“Fuck me harder,” he said, knowing it would egg Sokka on, and he laughed breathlessly as Sokka growled and tipped them both over so that Zuko was underneath him. Zuko hooked his legs around Sokka’s lower back and Sokka thrust into him, each stroke deeper and harder than the one before it. Zuko reveled in it, reveled in the heat in Sokka’s eyes, the way that he had to clench his hand in the covers to keep them both on the bed. This was sex on a whole new level, made better by the knowledge that he _loved_  this boy, that he fit with him like it was meant to be.

Maybe it was that thought or maybe it was Sokka’s long, low moan that accompanied the pulsing warmth spilling into him. Suddenly the tightness low in his back hit him and he bit Sokka hard on the shoulder, hissing his warning almost too late, “Fuck, Sokka, I’m so close.”

He came all over them both, trembling and quaking, unable to hold back as he yelled Sokka’s name. Everything was bright, the light too dazzling, and Sokka drove into him one more time before collapsing forward. He immediately rolled over, but Zuko, clinging to his shoulders, moved with him. He dropped heavily onto his flushed, sweaty chest.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, swiping a hand down Sokka’s ribs. He held up two fingers, coated with his own cum. “I sort of made a mess.”

“Don’t apologize,” Sokka beamed up at him. His eyelids grew heavy, “I liked it.” He grabbed Zuko’s wrist and brought the hand closer, sucking Zuko’s fingers into his mouth.

If Zuko hadn’t just come, he would have gotten hard all over again. As it was, his cock tried to give a feeble jerk, but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Ugh, don’t _do_  that,” Zuko groaned. “I’m too tired to go again.”

“Yeah, it’s been quite a day,” Sokka agreed, his smile fading.

Zuko wanted to bask in the after-sex glow, but he knew what was coming. He should have talked more with Sokka, but in their desperation after the fight… he stood up on shaky legs and stumbled over to the door, grabbing a towel from the back of it to clean up with. He threw it to Sokka, who stripped off the condom and knotted it, tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of the garbage.

“Oh shit,” Sokka said, and Zuko looked at him questioningly. “How did your shoe get stuck in the ceiling fan?”

 

 


	14. After the Fact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet one for some post-coital feelings. And some tsungi horn.

“When did you even take off your clothes?” Zuko asked.

“Good point,” Sokka stared down at his naked body. Zuko stared too, but it was more because he was enjoying the sight than out of curiosity. “I have no idea.”

Zuko padded back to the bed, gently tugging the towel from between Sokka’s hands. He climbed under the covers, dragging them down and over Sokka as well. He curled into his side, hoping that Sokka couldn’t mind. If the way he cuddled when they watched TV was any indication, he was probably equally snuggly after sex.

He didn’t disappoint, wrapping an arm around Zuko’s shoulders. The other lifted to his own shoulder. Zuko saw that there was an angry red mark there.

“Oh shit,” he yelped. “I’m so sorry.” But he was also fascinated by the bruise—there it was, proof that he had been with Sokka, that Sokka had been his for that little while. Like it should be. He ran a finger across it, and Sokka shuddered.

“I like that, too,” Sokka said quietly.

“Really?” Zuko’s breath was coming more sharply, now. _Calm down_  he told his dick. _You aren’t any good to anyone right now_.

“Yeah. I like being on top, but watching you lose it,” he flushed, “that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Oh,” Zuko said, pressing his cheek to Sokka’s chest. Almost against his own will, he started imagining next time… thinking about all the places he wanted to fuck Sokka, all the different ways. He knew he was more experienced than the younger man, but he had the feeling Sokka was very open to new ideas. “We can, you know,” he blushed, ”do it again sometime.”

“Soon,” Sokka said fervently. 

“Mmhmm…” Zuko nodded, closing his eyes.

***

They both woke up to the sound of the front door slamming.

“Shit,” Sokka said, eyes popping open wide. He scrambled out of the bed, yanking his jeans on hurriedly. Zuko followed, running to the door to retrieve his boxers. There was no hope for the shoe, but maybe he could explain that to Iroh some other way…

In their haste to make it into the kitchen without rousing suspicion, Sokka somehow ended up wearing Zuko’s shirt, and Zuko was pretty sure his left sock actually belonged to Sokka. Judging by the hint of plaid peeking out over the top of Sokka’s waistband, he had also grabbed a clean pair of underwear off the pile on Zuko’s bureau. Somehow, Zuko couldn’t bring himself to mind.

“Uncle,” Zuko said, sitting down at the kitchen table. Iroh was standing at the sink, filling the kettle. Sokka sat down beside him, and Zuko was amazed to see that he had easily hitched an innocent, nonchalant smile onto his face. “How was your day?”

Iroh’s sharp eyes took in both of their appearances: tousled hair, wrinkled clothing, mismatched left socks… “You are feeling better I see,” he chortled. “Well, bring me a cup of tea when it is done,” he set the kettle on the burner. “I will be in my study, ehm, playing some very loud music on my tsungi horn.” He swept off down the hall, still chuckling.

“Oh god. He knows,” Zuko said, humiliated.

“Hey, he’s pretty awesome for an old dude,” Sokka said. He sat down at the table “Still, we should probably talk. About stuff.”

“How specific,” Zuko snorted. He tucked a piece of long hair behind Sokka’s ear and sat down opposite him. “Ok. What first?”

“I don’t want this to sound weird,” Sokka said hesitantly. “But are you ok? That stuff about your dad was...” Sokka waved his hand through the air like he was hoping to catch a word bad enough to express his feelings toward Zuko’s father.

“Yes,” Zuko said, knotting his hands in his lap. He had expected this. “I have a therapist. I mean, we didn’t talk about the thing with Jet, but we talked about family. I’m a shrink’s wet dream,” he grumbled, “dad with anger issues, dead mom, sick sister.”

“Your sister? You’ve mentioned her, but never…”

“She was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. Apparently I was the only one who saw it coming,” he said. “My mom wanted to get help for her when we were little, but it took her almost burning the house down for my dad to admit she wasn’t as perfect as he thought.”

“Well this explains the dour thing,” Sokka said. “You know, why Iroh was so surprised to hear you laughing.” Sokka shook his head. “And about Jet?” Zuko held his breath. “Sorry I got so mad,” Sokka mumbled. “It’s just that he’s so *cool* and mysterious and dangerous. Everyone always like the bad boy,” he said sadly, miming smoking a cigarette. “And I’m not like that. I mean, I don’t _want_  to be: Jet’s a fucking psycho. But if you prefer that…”

“No,” Zuko said. “Everything I said downstairs is true. He isn’t right for me. You are. It’s you that I love, not him. I never loved him, I just _wanted_  him. And anyway,” he drew patterns absentmindedly on the table with his index finger, “I’ve never wanted him as much as I wanted you back there.” He jerked his head towards his bedroom. He could imagine it now, dark and still and heavy with the smell of sex and Sokka. “But don’t feel pressured!” he said quickly, realizing how that sounded. “You’ve helped me through so much, but you don’t _owe_  me anything. You don’t have to feel the same way.” He hoped Sokka understood what he meant.

“You—“ Sokka’s voice was cracked and hoarse. Zuko looked up at him, concerned. But his blue eyes were astonished, not unhappy. He cleared his throat and tried again, “You love me?”

“Oh,” Zuko blinked stupidly, rewinding the last few minutes in his brain. _When did I let that slip?_  “I’m sorry, I was going to say it later, more romantically or something,” he winced. “But yeah. I do.”

Sokka grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him. Zuko was worried by the wetness he felt on his face, not sure if it was Sokka’s tears or his own, but decided that it didn’t matter. The last two days had been hell. If one or both of them was going to cry, they fucking deserved it.

“Oh yeah,” Sokka pulled back, grinning. “One more thing.” Zuko nodded. “Are you gay?”

Zuko couldn’t help it; he broke out into hysterical laughter.

“What?” Sokka demanded, staring at him in surprise. “That’s a perfectly legitimate question!”

“Oh my god,” Zuko clutched his stomach, unable to catch his breath. “I just let you fuck me in the ass, and you’re concerned about whether or not I’m _gay_?!” Fortunately, the tsungi horn chose that moment to make an appearance in their lives, so Iroh didn’t hear Zuko’s shout or the accompanying whoop of laughter.

“I don’t know, I just *wondered*!” Sokka complained, crossing his arms. “I mean, I’m not really sure if I am or not, but you said it wasn’t like this with Mai, so…”

“Sokka,” Zuko said, taking his hand and trying to keep a straight face, “I don’t give a flying fuck whether you’re gay or not. As long as you aren’t grossed out by ‘butt fucking’,” he tried out Toph’s expression with a grin, “I don’t care.”

“Ok. Cool,” Sokka said. “I mean, my dad is dating a dude, I’m dating a dude, my ex-girlfriend is dating a chick—obviously _gay_  isn’t the issue. I just hoped you didn’t want a label.” He drew himself up, and declaimed, “I am far too complex a human being to be constrained by these narrow descriptors.”

Zuko lost his shit again, almost falling out of his chair. This time the tsungi horn faltered before starting back up again.

“Whatever,” he said, grabbing Sokka by the arm. “As long as Uncle’s trying to give us some privacy, let’s take advantage of it.” And he dragged Sokka back to the bedroom.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last Zukka chapter… Hope you enjoy and keep an eye out for my next work, which I'll be starting really soon. Again, this one isn't for the faint of heart: sex ahead!

The last weeks of school flew by. When the bell rang on the last day, everyone met in the parking lot: Aang trailing after Katara; Suki and Toph laughing uproariously together; and Sokka with his arm around Zuko, who was nodding as Sokka chattered animatedly.

They reached the cars all at the same time, and Sokka grumbled when Suki lounged against his, Toph leaning into her affectionately.

“You aren’t allowed in an enclosed space with me,” Sokka said, jabbing a finger accusingly at them. “Zuko can drive you.” Zuko snickered. “IT WASN’T FUNNY,” he rounded on him. “Be supportive, babe, GOD!”

“It was pretty funny,” Zuko said, trying (and failing) to contain his smile.

“What was funny?” Aang asked, staring around at everyone else.

“Maybe when you’re older,” Sokka said sanctimoniously.

Katara rolled her eyes, “Are you two going to be calling each other ‘babe’ all the time now? Just give us some warning.”

“So we can ready the barf bags,” Toph added.

“I don’t know, sweetie, I think it’s kind of cute,” Aang sighed, sliding an arm around Katara’s waist. She smiled fondly back at him.

Sokka looked dumbfounded, “When did that happen?”

“Sometime between you and Zuko nearly breaking up and then banging each other’s brains out all over the place,” Toph said.

“Or maybe *while* Toph and I were banging each other’s brains out,” Suki laughed.

Aang’s face was very pink, “Stop with the, the… _banging_. You’re gonna give a guy an inferiority complex.”

“Aang and I are going to wait,” Katara said primly. “Until we’ve made a mature decision to commit to one another.” She glared at the other four.

Toph snorted, “Whatever. I’ll take the orgasms.”

Katara looked scandalized.

“You’ll understand one day,” she said, elbowing Katara gently in the ribs. She smiled back cautiously.

“Moving away from Toph’s orgasms,” Sokka said pointedly, “are we hitting the beach or what?”

***

Ember Beach was a private strand, small and secluded, with a large “ **Do Not Trespass** ” sign stretched menacingly across the drive leading up to it.

“My family owns it,” Zuko admitted, scratching his head awkwardly. “But no one else ever visits, so…” The others considerately refrained from commenting.

They unloaded the car together, Toph and Sokka good naturedly sniping at each other the whole time. Once the blankets were spread out and the food was unpacked (Sokka had taken it upon himself to prepare this picnic as well), the girls disappeared into the woods to change and the boys cracked open the cooler.

“Gran Gran’s finest moonshine,” Sokka shook an unlabeled bottle at a very dubious Zuko. “She doesn’t know that I know she makes it,” he said smugly, unscrewing the cap. He took a swig and passed it to Zuko, who sniffed gingerly. The inside of his nose burned, but he forced down a swallow and handed the bottle to Aang.

The girls reappeared a few minutes later, and Toph took down half the bottle herself. She remained fairly pulled together, but the hint of pink in her cheeks and the way she smiled dreamily whenever Suki spoke gave her away. After a short chastisement—Sokka looked only slightly abashed—Katara was surprisingly quick to take the bottle from Suki. By the time it was gone, everyone was feeling loose and cheerful.

Sokka and Zuko soon found themselves lying alone on the beach while the others splashed in the shallow water. The sun beat down on them, the sand was warm beneath their backs, and the inexorable rush of the waves lulled them into a comfortable lethargy. Sokka rolled over languidly to stare at Zuko, who was reclining on a stack of beach towels with his eyes closed.

“You’re so pretty,” he whined, his words slightly slurred. Zuko’s damaged right eye slit open and swiveled towards him, but he didn’t turn. Sokka got up on all fours and shuffled closer. “Soooo pretty.” He lay his head down on Zuko’s stomach and looked up at him adoringly. “I love you.” Zuko didn’t say anything, but his hand drifted down to stroke distractedly at Sokka’s hair, fingers teasing through it gently. Sokka sighed and nuzzled at the band of Zuko’s shorts. Zuko laughed quietly.

“GET A ROOM!” Suki called from the water, jolting Sokka’s head up from where he was nosing Zuko’s shirt out of the way.

“Foiled again,” he groaned, then rolled over to glare at her. “SO YOU AND TOPH CAN SCREW IN PUBLIC, BUT I’M NOT ALLOWED TO BLOW MY BOYFRIEND—“

“In front of your sister?” Katara glared right back.

“Ugh,” Sokka dropped onto Zuko’s chest. “That just ruins everything.”

“I don’t know,” Zuko whispered. “We could always rechristen the back of your car.”

“That is a beautiful idea,” Sokka breathed.

They both jumped up a little unsteadily and hurried along the path to the cars. The trail was hard packed dirt that wound its way through a patch of forest. The leafy branches of the trees met over their heads to make a long green tunnel, and the light filtering through was soft and golden.

Sokka only fell off the path and into the bushes once, but Zuko caught him and dragged him back up. “If you’re too drunk to walk, you’re too drunk to fuck,” he frowned, holding Sokka securely against him. The dappled light played over Sokka’s face as he put on his best attempt at innocent surprise.

“No!” he protested. “Just drunk enough! And anyway,” he ran a hand suggestively down Zuko’s chest, “I’d fuck you sober anytime.”

Zuko laughed and took his hand, pulling him the rest of the way to the car. They scrambled into the backseat, Zuko banging his head on the roof and Sokka accidentally kicking the gearshift in their haste.

Finally they were sprawled out in the back, Zuko lying across Sokka’s lap. “Where do you want me?” he asked, only half-kidding. He was still overwhelmed sometimes by the urge that his father and Jet in implanted in him to _do better_  to please everyone, even the people who didn’t want him to be perfect.

Sokka seemed to intuitively understand this about him. “Wherever you wanna be,” he said, ducking his head to nibble at Zuko’s ruined earlobe. Zuko closed his eyes at the contact. Sokka didn’t pay his scar any particular attention, but sometimes the casualness of his touches—the way that he treated it like a normal feature of his face—took his breath away.

“Mmkay,” he murmured. He grabbed Sokka by the ponytail, ignoring his jokingly irritated huff, and drew his face up to kiss him. Almost as an afterthought, he slid his hand down Sokka’s chest and towards the band of his swimsuit. He was lying slightly on his side propped over Sokka on an elbow, and his legs were oddly bent to entangle with Sokka’s. Even so, he managed to work the shorts down his thighs.

“Aaahhh,” Sokka arched up as his hand closed around his half-erect cock. “Zuko,” his eyes were glazed with pleasure as he looked up at him, “you’re incredible.” He licked his lip and seemed to be trying to struggle through his desire to find the right words. “I, ugh, you should know,” he closed his eyes, swallowing rapidly, his breath coming in short bursts. “I’m just really happy,” he finally choked out.

“I figured,” Zuko snorted, his hand now stroking along Sokka’s shaft. He ran a thumb across the head, delighted to find a bead of moisture there. Sokka groaned as he sucked the thumb into his mouth, lathing his tongue very obviously over the skin.

“No, I mean—*fuck*,” Sokka moaned. “I love you, right?”

Zuko nodded, smiling. If they’d never said it before, he would have found it suspicious that Sokka was declaring this while Zuko’s hand was on his dick.

“Right,” Sokka said. He licked his lip again, losing his train of thought. “Yeah. And I’m happy… to be with you. Like,” he shifted, his hips driving up into Zuko’s hand, “happier than I’ve ever been.”

Zuko’s face split into an unapologetic grin. His hand went still for a second so that he could concentrate all of his energy into kissing Sokka until he couldn’t breath. Sokka’s mouth was warm and wet and tasted vaguely of moonshine, but the way his lips parted for Zuko’s without question, the way he moaned around his tongue in encouragement… Zuko couldn’t help but grind against his leg a little as his hand began to caress again. He was harder this time, stroking faster until Sokka was thrashing underneath him, his hips thrusting erratically.

“Zuko, shit, I’m… fuck, harder… I’m gonna…”

Zuko had barely a second’s warning to duck down and get his mouth around Sokka’s cock before he came. As it was, Sokka came so hard that he couldn’t swallow it all, little rivulets running down Sokka’s hip and Zuko’s chin. Zuko licked at the trail before it could hit the seat, and when he looked up Sokka’s eyes were wide, his face flushed, his lip swollen from biting it.

“Holy motherfucker,” he breathed, his thumb rubbing through the cum on Zuko’s face. “I…” for the first time in his life, words seemed to have failed him. He dropped his head back to the seat and shook it wonderingly. “How are you real?” he slurred.

“What?” Zuko climbed up him, wiping his chin off on Sokka’s shirt.

“That was the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen. Like, oh my god. You like doing that, don’t you?” he stared at Zuko almost accusingly.

“So?” Zuko shrugged. He was starting to feel a little self-conscious. “You didn’t seem to mind,” he muttered.

Sokka’s eyes cleared, “No, no, I’m glad. It’s, uh, it’s good. It’s just. Wow.” He grabbed Zuko suddenly and yanked him down for a bruising kiss. His tongue swiped through Zuko’s mouth as though searching out the taste of himself. Zuko couldn’t help groaning at the thought. Sokka pulled back, his cheeks flushing. “Do you want to try something new?” he asked hesitantly.

“Like what?” Zuko asked. He wracked his brains for a second, trying to figure out what they hadn’t done so far. It seemed like the last month or so had seen plenty of experimentation. 

“Likewithyouontop,” Sokka said very quickly.

“Oh.” Zuko sat up. He was definitely interested in the possibility; it was just that Sokka had never offered and he hadn’t wanted to push. And even though he was pretty sure he had all the mechanics down by now, he’d never done it before. He didn’t want to hurt Sokka.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to!” Sokka assured him, looking worried that he was upset. “But I trust you,” his voice was very small now, and he fiddled with a button Zuko’s shirt, “and you always seem to be having a good time with it, so…”

“Yeah. Yeah, ok,” Zuko nodded. He cast around for what to do first. “Do you have…?”

Sokka stretched his arm out awkwardly to retrieve a bottle of lube from the seatback pocket. Zuko wondered when Sokka had put that in there, and the thought that he had been planning this made him feel a bit flustered. He blushed down at the bottle, then blushed more deeply at his own embarrassment. It wasn’t a big deal; they’d done more than this already. But suddenly this seemed like a big step. Sokka had been thinking about this, waiting for the right moment, leaving lube in potentially useful places…

“You ok?” Sokka asked. His hand cupped Zuko’s jaw, and his thumb rubbed lightly across the lower edge of his scar.

“Are you sure?” Zuko said quietly.

“Yeah,” Sokka said. He leaned up to gently kiss him. “But, um,” he looked around at the tiny backseat, “how should we do this?”

Zuko examined the inside of the car. Jet had fucked him in worse conditions (there was one particularly memorable occasion in Jet’s old tree house), but he was already worried about Sokka having a good time, and there was no way they could find a decent angle in here…

“Come on,” Zuko said, tugging Sokka up. He kicked the door open and clambered out. Sokka crawled out after him and tripped over his shorts and onto the pavement, swearing incoherently. Zuko tried not to laugh as he helped him to his feet. He pulled Sokka over to the back of the car and kissed him thoroughly before turning him with tender hands so that he was bent over the trunk. “Is this ok?” he asked tentatively. He smoothed a hand up Sokka’s back, more to calm himself than the other boy.

“Better than ok,” Sokka said, smiling toothily at him over his own shoulder. He pushed his hips back unexpectedly, and Zuko muffled his startled cry. Glaring at Sokka, he yanked his own shorts down and squeezed the bottle of lube, stroking himself a few times before running a hand down Sokka’s ass. He hesitated at first, but the noise Sokka made when he brushed a finger over him was enough incentive. His finger glided inside and Sokka moaned, his legs going out from under him so that momentarily Zuko was the only thing holding him upright.

“More,” he managed to gasp, and Zuko obliged, adding another finger. Sokka shuddered, his hips twitching. Zuko ran the other hand up Sokka’s spine, and then followed it with his mouth, leaving searing, open-mouthed kisses on his skin. He sucked at the back of Sokka’s neck and Sokka writhed, twisting around to pant, “God, Zuko, _more_.”

Zuko pulled his fingers free and leaned back, steadying himself…

His cock slid into the cleft of Sokka’s ass and he pushed forward, the head of his dick nudging inside. Sokka rocked backward, taking him all the way in. They both cried out, Zuko’s hands instinctively grabbing onto Sokka’s waist, Sokka’s head snapping back at the sensation.

It was like nothing Zuko had ever felt before, not like Sokka’s mouth or hands, or—oh god, Sokka was moving, and he wasn’t ready, he was overwhelmed. But then Sokka was reaching back to grab his hand and they were moving _together_. Zuko’s dick was sliding in and out of Sokka as he drove backward, grunting a little at each impact. Zuko could dimly hear himself making breathy little noises, but he couldn’t help it, Sokka was so tight and hot and slick. His hips seemed to thrust of their own accord, his thighs working hard to keep them both upright and keep wringing those sounds out of Sokka’s throat, because it was _too good_ , too good to last…

He would have been embarrassed by how quick it was, except that the way Sokka clenched around him left him no choice in the matter. He flattened a hand across Sokka’s lower back as he came, holding him steady, trying so hard not to push him flush against the car and pound into him like he wanted to. Sokka’s hand was on his own cock, and the sight of that was enough to make Zuko see stars.

He dropped heavily against Sokka’s back, his breath unsteady.

“How…how was…” he couldn’t form a sentence with his fried, blissed-out brain.

“So good,” Sokka sighed, slumped over the back of the car.

Zuko realized suddenly that it must be getting uncomfortable for him and pulled back. Sokka whined at the loss of contact but immediately straightened to turn and throw himself into Zuko’s arms. Zuko was caught off guard; he slipped on the loose gravel and tripped. Sokka was unable to break their fall: his shorts were still tangled in his ankles. They tumbled back and off the side of the parking lot with a crash.

“Hey!” Zuko protested, but Sokka slapped a hand over his mouth, his face alarmed. He began to fumble with his swim trunks. “Wha—?”

“Shh!” Sokka hissed.

“Where’d they go?” came Katara’s voice from somewhere near Zuko’s car.

Zuko felt his own eyes go round with dismay. He yanked his shorts up just in time to see Aang’s head poke around the side of the car.

“I found them!” he called jubilantly. “What are you doing in there?”

“Uh, Aang!” Sokka bounded to his feet, and Zuko was amused to see him wince a little at his tender backside. “We were… uh, Zuko lost his car keys!”

“Yeah!” Zuko climbed out of the bushes, pulling a leaf out of his shorts. He tried to be sneaky as he pulled the keys from his pocket and held them up for inspection. “But I found them, don’t worry.”

“Oh good,” Aang laughed. “It would suck to be stuck here! Hey…” he leaned around them, looking suspicious. Zuko held his breath. “I think that’s poison ivy! Good thing you were both wearing shorts!”

Aang turned to rejoin Katara, and Sokka stared at Zuko in horror, mouthing _Poison ivy?!_

“It’s ok,” Zuko laughed. Poison ivy on his ass seemed a small price to pay for keeping Aang from seeing his dick. “I’ll help you scratch in all the hard-to-reach places.”

Sokka grimaced, “Well that’s comforting.”

Zuko wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Ok, that made it better,” Sokka grinned.

“I aim to please,” Zuko said, then frowned, “let’s go jump in the water. I’m all sticky.”

Sokka’s laughter echoed after him as he raced him to the beach. The sound, now so familiar, was warm and happy and… _Yeah. Definitely comforting._


	16. What Was Funny: A Very Toph and Suki Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last batch of some happy/funny Toph and Suki love… their chapters practically wrote themselves, so I wanted to include one more. Cause, I mean, poor Sokka…. he just has terrible timing, doesn't he?

Toph had always wanted to get it on in the back of a car. Which made the fact that she was _currently_  getting it on in the back of a car that much more exciting.

As a general rule, the student parking lot at the end of the day wasn't a terribly happening place. Just about everyone had evacuated the school as quickly as possible, and the poor assholes who had to stay were still engrossed in their particular meetings or practices or whatever. Which meant that she and Suki had a good hour or so until their chances of getting caught went from a mere 70% up to 100.

Well, they'd _had_  an hour... Now it was more like 15 minutes. _More than enough time_  Toph thought.

The tricky thing about bringing the cock to school had been where to put it. The harness was more or less underwear, so that was no biggie, but a giant silicone penis? Although Toph didn't actually know what it looked like, she didn't think someone helping her fish a lost pack of gum out of her backpack would be real thrilled by its presence.

Thankfully Suki and the cheerleaders had more experience hiding questionable materials.

"Why does Lixing have a secret hoard of porn in the equipment shed?" Toph asked Suki.

"Why...does it matter...right now?" Suki asked breathlessly. She grabbed one of Toph's hands and guided it up. Toph felt the soft swell of a breast under her palm and smiled, leaning forward to nip gently at the underside of the other. Suki let out a little cry and pitched forward so that her hair swung into Toph's face. She could feel the silky ends of it tracing back and forth over her cheek as Suki rose and fell on the cock.

They were in the backseat of the car, having negotiated that as the best place for this particular activity. Judging from the way the leather on either side of her head creaked, Suki's hands were braced on the seat behind her for leverage. Her thighs were trembling as she slid up and down, moaning shamelessly. Toph loved the sound, loved the way Suki's smooth skin felt as her other hand slid up one of those thighs and under her skirt. Her ass was bare underneath; she'd found Suki's underwear in her backpack during 6th period and had known from the feel of the lace that they were the ones she'd come to school in (they'd fooled around in an empty classroom before home room). And god, if they hadn't already been planning this, she would have jumped her anyway, because she wasn't a terribly visual person—she chuckled internally—but the thought of Suki leaving class to go to the bathroom, slipping off her panties to hide away until she could leave them for Toph, of spending the rest of the day in anticipation of their after school meeting... That drove her wild.

"Mmmm, still with me?" Suki's nose brushed hers, and then her lips descended, pressing Toph's head back into the unyielding leather. Toph hummed assent against her mouth, more concerned with why Suki's hips had stopped moving. She released her breast, moving the other hand to cup her ass as well. Suki gasped, lips parting enough for Toph to slip her tongue into the mix. She licked into her mouth hungrily, thrusting past her teeth to the wet heat inside. Suki gyrated against her, and Toph squeezed harder, lifting Suki up so that the cock was in danger of slipping out. Suki nipped at her lip and took charge again, slamming herself back down with a cry. She twisted a hand into Toph's hair, nails raking hard across her scalp.

Toph shuddered. The cock hit just right with each of Suki's movements, the stuttering rhythm starting to build each time it pressed against her clit. She could feel Suki’s breasts swaying against her own as she bounced up and down. She arched up towards the sensation, exhaling shakily.

Suki laughed, and instead of her usual silvery giggle the sound was low and throaty, and sent a shiver down Toph’s spine.

“Enjoying yourself?” she teased. Her lips brushed Toph’s ear, sending another jolt between her legs. Suki’s lips felt kiss-swollen and slick as they caressed down Toph’s neck to lick at the soft skin beneath her ear. Toph hoped she left a mark. Even if she couldn’t see it, knowing it was there was its own thrill.

“You’re always—ugh—so quiet,” Suki groaned into her neck. “Agh, w—why?”

Toph wasn’t sure she could explain, especially not with Suki’s nails running across her shoulders and her breasts pushed up against her chest. Her nipples were so hard that she could feel them even through her own shirt and bra, and she bent her head to stroke up the side of one with her tongue. But if she was making noise, it meant that she couldn’t listen to Suki… couldn’t properly hear the way that her heart stuttered and then began to thunder when Toph touched her, couldn’t catch the little hitch in Suki’s breath when her tongue lathed up her nipple like _that_ , couldn’t find every tiny vibration in her moan when Toph trailed fingers down her spine. Suki had said before that she’d never come with anyone the way she did with Toph, but that was the secret. It wasn’t just that she _could_  pay attention to every subtle cue Suki gave her, it was that she _wanted_  to.

“So I can hear you,” she whispered. It was sappy, and it probably would have sounded sappier if Suki hadn’t chosen that moment to slide a hand between them and press at her clit through the harness. As it was, it came out breathy and cracked, nothing at all like _her_  voice. And it seemed to touch off some kind of explosion in Suki, whose eyes flashed open as Toph thrust up and she rebounded off the cock, crashing back down with a yell.

And then she was fucking Toph like a woman possessed. Toph grabbed hold of her hips just to have something to cling to. Suki’s heart was racing and she was moaning in that way she did when she was almost there, interspersed with the smaller, shallower breaths that meant she was impatient to reach the finish line. Toph didn’t forget her job, arching up over and over again to meet her, but she couldn’t help being mesmerized by the way she sounded and by the vibrations rippling through both of their bodies with each motion.

Suki suddenly went rigid, her entire body shuddering uncontrollably. She grabbed Toph by the ears—she heard herself let out an undignified squawk—and sealed their mouths together. Suki’s sweet, juddering breathes felt like the first fresh air after a lifetime underwater, and she wrapped her arms around her in a crushing embrace. Suki suddenly felt very small, but when they broke apart the sound of her voice filled the cramped backseat.

“Toph likes a girl,” she chanted, her voice sing-song.

“Oh shut up,” Toph grumbled.

“Toph has _fee-eelings_ ,” she continued, swiveling her hips in a way that made Toph’s breath catch.

“So?” Toph said challengingly.

“So,” Suki swung herself off of Toph. “This time I want _you_  to be loud.” And she sank to her knees on the floor of the car, yanking the fabric of the harness aside to flatten her tongue across Toph’s clit.

“Oh fuck!” Toph bowed forward, already so close that the invasion felt hypersensitive.

Suki mumbled contentedly against her, the point of her tongue flicking torturously. She smoothed her hands across the inside of Toph’s thighs, holding them open for her assault.

“God,” Toph groaned. Suki’s tongue was thrusting into her now, drawing out sounds she didn’t know she was capable of making. It darted back up, spinning around her clit again, before Suki sucked at her, and everything was falling apart… Toph bowed up off of the seat, Suki continuing at the hard pace she’d set, ignoring Toph’s thrashing limbs. She landed again, and everything was hot and white and burning, and Suki was laughing against her center, lapping at her like she was ice cream.

“You’re magic,” she said, suddenly limp joints making it hard to search out Suki’s arms. She finally found them and drew Suki back up her body. They kissed lazily, the cock still pressed between them.

They both jumped as the car beeped, but Toph recovered from the start quickly enough to continue kissing Suki. She felt drunk from her climax, and she almost forgot to care about what was about to happen, about the hilarity she had in store…

“NO.” There was the nearby sound of a very heavy soccer bag hitting pavement, and then the frantic thumping of frustrated fists against the back of the car. Someone let out a deep, rasping laugh. “THIS ISN’T FUNNY, ZUKO. That’s MY car!”

“I know,” came Zuko’s voice, thick with laughter. “But they put down towels at least.”

“TOWELS?!” Sokka screeched. “WHAT WERE YOU DOING THAT REQUIRED TOWELS?!”

Suki pulled away enough to murmur, “I think we’ve really done it now.”

Zuko was still laughing from outside, and Sokka was swearing a blue streak. “I can’t fucking believe you two, oh god, Toph, put that thing away.” Suki had climbed off of her again, obviously revealing the cock lying flush against her stomach. Toph calmly slid it out of the harness and handed it to Suki, who giggled.

“In my car, Zuko, in my CAR. What’s next? My bed? Your bed? THEY HAVE TO BE STOPPED.” From the sounds of it Zuko was not being very sympathetic. It kind of sounded like he was choking, actually.

“Man, Zuko’s laugh is weird,” Toph whispered.

“Tell me about it,” Suki said back, a smile in her voice. “Sounds a bit rusty to me.” Toph straightened her skirt and held out a hand for Suki to help her out of the car. Once they were both free, Suki pushed her up against the door, kissing her again with that dizzying force.

“I give up!” there was jangle of metal and the sound of something small—keys?—hitting the parking lot. “Take me home, Zuko, they can FUCKING HAVE IT.”

“He left us the keys,” Suki said, letting go of Toph. She was back a second later, and the rattling sound that accompanied her voice suggested that she was shaking the key ring. “Wanna go park it behind Jeong Jeong’s firework store and have another go?”

“Always,” Toph said, and took Suki’s hand. Yep, she had those feelings bad.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …And that's all she wrote! Thanks for all the love, you guys. This was my first major fanfic and it meant the world to me to know everyone enjoyed it. Please don't hesitate to comment or get in touch with me to tell me what you'd like to see next time… I enjoy the ideas and the opportunity to create more stuff that people want to read.


	17. Jet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to those nights in the bed of Jet's truck….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed the other day that the number of people subscribing to this has actually gone UP since I finished it… not really sure how that happened, but I'm happy about it! So here's another bonus chapter for all the latest readers. It's really just straight up Jetko porn, so I hope that feels worth your time ;-)

“Wanna?”

“Hmmm....?” Zuko looked over at Jet. His face was half lit by the moonlight and the faint flare of his cigarette in the dark. His expression was cocky and a little bit challenging.

“You know…” Jet leaned up on his elbow over Zuko, plucking his cigarette from his mouth and stubbing it out on the side of the truck’s bed. He threw it to the ground and leaned in so that his warm breath tickled Zuko’s ear. He ran a hand suggestively along Zuko’s abdomen.

Zuko took another swig of the whiskey Jet had stolen out of his parent’s bar. He was feeling warm and tingly, and his vision swam a little as he set the bottle back down and peered into Jet’s face.

“Sure,” he whispered.

“I knew you would,” Jet whispered back, lips already seeking his own. They were warm and dry and tasted like ash, just like always. Zuko closed his eyes, lying back on the blankets spread across the bed, his hand moving lazily upward to knot in Jet’s messy hair. Or he’d thought it was lazy, but somehow sex with Jet never was. Instead he drew a hiss and a chuckle from Jet as his fingers yanked at his hair, trying to get him closer.

“Pantin’ for it, eh Zuko?” Jet mumbled into his mouth. Zuko nodded jerkily, his hands scrabbling at the hem of Jet’s shirt as Jet’s own skimmed torturously up under his sweater. Jet wasn’t very good at taking his time, however, and he was soon rolling over onto Zuko, tugging his t-shirt over his own head as he moved sinuously above him. His mouth jolted away and was back before Zuko had time to protest, his teeth and lips hot and hungry. He bit at Zuko’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth before he dove back in to slide his tongue against Zuko’s. Zuko sucked at it gently, his hands moving to cup Jet’s cock. Jet moaned and jerked up, grabbing Zuko by the back of the head to bring him along for the ride.

“We gotta get this off you,” he moaned, tugging at the bottom of Zuko’s sweater. He nodded frantically, fighting to free himself from the article of clothing. He finally extricated his arms enough for Jet to pull it over his head. He sat up and wrapped his arms around Jet, wanting to feel the glide of skin on skin. “Aahh,” Jet murmured into his neck, “there it is.” He bit at Zuko’s earlobe and the drag of his teeth sent a shudder through him.

“Come on,” Zuko complained, pulling painfully hard at Jet’s hair.

“So impatient tonight,” Jet sighed, licking a hot stripe across Zuko’s jaw. “Fine.” He let go of Zuko, ignoring his keen of disapproval, and leapt easily from the bed of the truck. He leaned forward and yanked Zuko after him so that his ass slid to the edge of the blanket with his legs dangling on either side of Jet’s hips. He didn’t want to wait for Jet anymore: the alcohol was making him sloppy and unrestrained and yeah, _impatient_. He fumbled with the button of Jet’s jeans, not bothering to shove them down farther than necessary to free his cock. Jet groaned and arched into his touch, his hands clamping onto Zuko’s bare waist. Zuko had experience with this particular scenario, and he could imagine the smudgy bruises that he’d see in the bathroom mirror tomorrow. He didn’t care.

Stroking Jet a few times, he reached for the waistband of his own pants, but Jet was already there. He ripped them from Zuko’s legs, his erection bouncing absurdly as he pulled them free from Zuko’s feet and tossed them away.

Zuko spread his legs obscenely, and Jet pounced, losing what little control he had left. He barely waited for Zuko to shove the lube into his hand before his fingers were working him open. Zuko tried to bow backward--crying out in something that wasn’t quite pleasure but definitely wasn’t pain--but Jet caught him, muffling his shout by capturing his lips. Their hips rocked backward and forward together, Jet’s cock rubbing at his thigh, his fingers scissoring inside while Zuko jerked, trying to get him _deeper_.

Jet pulled free and took hold of Zuko’s thighs again, gripping them hard to steady himself as his dick nudged inside. Zuko drew in several deep, gasping breathes, his eyes wide, his jaw clenched as he tried to keep still. They stayed like that for a few seconds, frozen in time with Zuko’s hands clutching at Jet’s hair, Jet’s hands gripping Zuko’s ass, their faces barely a centimeter apart as they panted. Then Zuko gave a small nod, his nose brushing Jet’s, and Jet began to move.

Jet was never gentle, and Zuko thought, as he grabbed Jet’s shoulders and held on for dear life, that he wouldn’t want him to be. It made everything so much simpler: the only sounds were Jet’s heavy grunts, his own ragged moans, and the almost indecently wet sound of skin on skin; the only things he could feel were the relentless pounding rhythm of Jet’s hips, the calluses on his own palm as he stroked himself, the ebb and flow of _too much_  and _not enough_. Jet was pounding into him now, and he could barely keep up, trying to cant his own hips up so that Jet would hit exactly the right spot. Every time he did that growing ball of tension in his lower back wound a little tighter. And oh god, he wanted it to explode, he wanted to…”Jet, oh shit, fuck, harder, I’m gonna…” _Come_  he thought, his hand tugging at his cock as he spilled all over both of them, his body going limp and loose, only held up by Jet’s hand splayed out against his lower back.

“Fuck Zuko,” Jet slammed into him, his eyes going wide and blank, his spine suddenly rigid under Zuko’s fingers. His hips thrust forward, but they stuttered now as something warm and wet filled Zuko. He didn’t mind that, he thought dazedly as his hands stroked up Jet’s back. _Actually, I kind of like it_  he admitted to himself. He blushed at the thought. He knew he shouldn’t. Liking it was dangerous.

“How is it,” Jet pulled out and slumped over Zuko, his breath sawing out of his body in great heaves, “that this gets better every time?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko said, privately disagreeing. Maybe it got better for Jet every time, but it felt to him that Jet got less and less considerate with every fuck. He grabbed his shirt and wiped at his chest. He wasn’t sure how he’d explain arriving home topless to the housekeeper, but since meeting Jet there’d been worse situations to account for. “But I do know smoking isn’t helping with your stamina.”

“Shut up,” Jet laughed, bending down to retrieve Zuko’s pants. He held them out in truce, and Zuko drew them on. “Want one?” he thumbed his lighter to life.

Zuko shook his head. He reached for the whiskey bottle again and stared up at the stars as he took a pull. They hadn’t faded at all in the time they’d been out here, but somehow… they didn’t seem as bright as they had before.


End file.
